Willow Tree
by chocolate-snowmen
Summary: So this was it, huh? My four years in high school dropping tiny hints at Zach about my true feelings...they'd all been for nothing." Chameleon - 1. a changeable or fickle person. Cammie's isn't so sure about anything anymore...
1. Introduction

**Hi! This is my first fanfic so I'm not really sure if it's any good. Please comment on it and tell me whether or not you want me to continue, cause I don't want to be writing something no one wants to read. Thanks :)**

**This actually isn't the story yet! I'm just introducing the characters here, because most of them are pretty different from how they are in the books. Oh, and know that no one's a spy in this story, so the school everyone's going to is Roseville High.**

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Disclaimer: I don't own the Gallagher Girls series or characters– though I wish I did :)**

Enter Zach - Irresistibly hot (and he knows it), wittily sarcastic, he's the bad boy all the girls secretly crave but can never get. So it's strange when he arrives to school one day with a girl on his arm – and the resident almost-supermodel, Macey McHenry, no less.

And so of course there's Macey herself - Like Zach, she's a beyond-gorgeous hottie. Their difference? Whereas Zach never dates, she goes through guys faster than she goes through new outfits (and that's saying a lot). She seems to be serious about Zach though…

There's also Cammie, otherwise known as the Chameleon. She's your typical girl-next-door with a bonus – her ratings in the looks department are just as high as Macey and Zach's, yet boy does she not know it. Best friends with Zach since they were toddlers, and finding a new friend in Macey, even she is surprised when she sees the linked arms between them at school one day. She has a secret too though – she's been secretly in love with Zach for a year.

Josh Abrams – He's definitely a cutie, and Zach's best friend. Sweet and considerate, he's got his fair share of admirers. Too bad he only has eyes for Cammie when Zach is the only one she wants.

Bex Baxter and Grant Newman – They were the school's IT on-and-off couple before Zach and Macey happened. Both very close to Cammie, they see through her calm exterior to the hurt she feels when she sees Zach with Macey. Unnoticed by the Chameleon, they devise a plan as to how to get Zach to fall in love with Cammie.

Liz Sutton – She's probably the smartest kid at school, but it's not definite because of a special _somebody_. Not very popular by herself, she's been living a much better life ever since she helped Cammie with a math problem and earned herself a new friend.

Jonas McHenry – Yes, that's right folks. He's the brother of Macey. Not such a bad looker himself, it's his love for school that keeps girls from tossing themselves at him. This is the guy that's making Liz not so sure of herself anymore. Is it really just a battle of intelligence going on between the two – or is there something more there?

Your typical teenage love story? I don't think so. Hearts will break, secrets spilled, lessons taught, and miracles may just happen, but we must remember that these are still normal teenagers we're talking about. Or are they?

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Excerpt from story:**

Cammie POV

I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. So this was it, huh? My four years in high school spent dropping tiny hints at Zach about my true feelings, which, by the way, if he'd noticed, he never mentioned about – they'd all been nothing. Who was I to think that someone as perfect as Zach Goode would ever want to have anything to do with a plain Jane like me? Sure, he was my best friend. But even then, I was just "one of the guys." Out of all the girls in the school, only Bex and Macey could meet up to Zach in the quadriple threat department: good looks, personality, IQ, and athleticism, and since Bex was already taken, that left only Macey.

I walked up to my mirror and looked at myself closely. Straight dirty blonde hair. Check. Neutral green eyes. Check. Cute nose. Check. Stubborn mouth. Check. Average cheekbones. Check. Yep, still plain old me. And this was when my hope of living happily ever after with Zachary J. Goode truly flickered and died.

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Reviews would really appreciated! Suggestions are very much welcome too.**


	2. Chapter 1

Macey McHenry Semester 1 Schedule

First Period: Biology Miranda Callinan Rm. 294

"Biology. First period." Macey McHenry muttered, glaring at her schedule as if that would make a difference. "Biology. First period. Biology. First period. Biology…" She paused to catch her breath and continued…"Biology. First period. Biology..first period. First period Biology. Biology! First period!" She was furious. Whoever heard of doing blood tests and dissecting frogs first thing in the morning, for a whole semester? She was a drama queen. And we all know that drama queens love making their opinions known. "You. Have. Got. To. Be. Fucking. Kidding. Me!" She yelled out as a grand finale. Yep, she also wasn't one for mild word choice.

That was when she looked up from her schedule. And saw the dozens of people. The dozens of people all staring at her, wondering what in the hell this new girl was doing. Wondering who the hell this stunning, yet apparently crazy teenager was.

Combat boots. Rebellious tie loose around her neck. Paint splattered shirt. Skinny, skinny jeans. Yes, she'd admit it. She was a sight to be double-taken by. But she knew, and this she wasn't bragging about, that she was beautiful despite the rebellious look she carried. Definitely princess-actress material. Not that she hadn't been asked if she was a supermodel a couple of times– okay, more than a couple. But she shouldn't think about this just yet, she already had enough problems at hand.

_And so the woo-ers'll come flowing in 3…2…1… _she wryly thought to herself, catching the open-mouthed geeks and jocks alike all around.

And she was right. She hated to do this, but she had to. It was the only way to earn herself a girlfriend or two. As great as Macey McHenry was, even she knew that going solo could only be fun for so long. She'd never gone past having three friends though. They were all too jealous of her, not that she wouldn't be too if she were in their position.

"And here comes Bachelor #1!" Thank god this one wasn't as freaky as some other guys that had asked her out before. And wow, his toothy grin was strangely enticing, not that she would ever be interested. "Hey… so tell me, did it hurt?" Hmm… user of clichéd pick-up lines, she noted. She'd play with him for a while, and attempt to scare off other guys in the process.

Pursing her lips, she asked, "Excuse me?" This annoyed remark would pass off as being coy, she knew. People never tried to look past what they wanted to believe. She'd learned that from observing her parents for a long time.

"Because I could swear that you were an angel; so did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

She shrugged her shoulders and rolled her head to the right, trying to buy time. "Hmm… well…"

And then she saw them. A guy and a girl. But they weren't just any pair. They were what seemed to be the best-matched couple ever. Move aside golden couple, these two were a match of the heavens. God. It seemed as if they even glowed. Who were they? Somehow, seeing these together, Macey almost doubted her theory of how nobody was ever perfect. They looked as if they were made for each other. Their smiles, their movements, everything seemed in sync, yet they didn't seem fake or anything. She couldn't describe them. Real-life, likable Barbie and Ken? Nah. They weren't perfect in the plastic surgery way. It was more of a soothing aura they gave off together. But she noticed this; how just by looking at the two together, she felt somehow as if she was intruding on something. As if she'd reached too much of a finger toe into their personal bubble. And this made her so confused that she jumped at what happened next.

"See something you like, huh?" A low, enticing voice was spoken directly into her ear.

Macey whirled around. Hot guy. Sandy blond. Blue eyes. Yet he seemed much more than the usual sunshine boy, though she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. Leaned against the lockers. Baggy jeans. She didn't answer, just stared at him. This usually intimidated people enough to know that no one ever talked to Macey McHenry without invitation and expected to get away with it. Hot guy or not, the people at Roseville needed to know that she was not one to be messed with, and he was the first person she got to practice it on.

Thinking all this almost made her forget about that captivating, godly couple. "That's Zach Goode."

Macey looked at him blankly. How could he not get that she didn't want to be bothered? He took the look to mean that she didn't know who he was talking about. What the hell was wrong with him? "The guy with the crooked smile. You know, the guy in the couple you're staring at. He's one of the few smart athletes at Roseville high." And then his naturally sarcastic expression changed.

"And that girl he's with. The one holding onto his arm. See her perfect smile? That's Cammie Morgan." This guy, despite his golden good looks, had given her a sort of 'bad boy' feeling. Yet, his rough façade seemed to melt under the mention of this Cammie Morgan girl. What was so special about this girl, other than her being part of this meant-to-be couple? Macey took this time to shake her head. Surely these two were defying all that she'd learned in her life: Love wasn't ever meant to be. There was no such thing as fate. You could only go along with a person of the opposite gender so much.

She squinted at the dirty blonde. And gasped. That Cammie. She was gorgeous. Yet how did she not notice before?

"Yup. A sight to behold, isn't she?" The boy sighed. "Too bad she never even notices. Believe me, how all of us have tried to get her to know it. We've given up though, even named her the Chameleon because of how she thinks she's plain, and blends in a lot."

All of us? Macey thought. It seemed as if the boy was a friend of Cammie's. Could be useful – this Cammie girl seemed pretty decent. Girl must be pretty brilliant not to notice how striking she was.

Again the guy caught her staring at him, and again took it for something else. "My name's Josh by the way." He held out a hand, and looked her up and down. He'd been too busy staring dreamily after Cammie before to do that.

She grimaced. So he was just like the others… and she'd thought he might be different. "I didn't need to know that by the way," she sneered, mimicking him.

But Josh didn't notice. He just dropped his arm and went back to looking at Cammie and Zach. Zach and Cammie. Macey tested it out in her mind. Their names had a ring to them when put together. She wondered… how long have they been dating? They looked completely at ease together. She decided to ask Josh, though he was pissing her off a bit, being normal after all.

"So how long have they been together?" She questioned, trying to seem nonchalant, because Macey McHenry was never outright curious about anything.

It was the boy's turn to stare. "They aren't dating." He stated, as plainly as that, obviously confused by her question.

This answer wouldn't do. "What do you mean they aren't dating?" She exclaimed. "Those two look as if they're meant to be – and I've never been able to believe such a thing could happen!" Surprisingly, she felt exactly like how she felt years ago when she'd disappointedly discovered that the tooth fairy was her nanny.

Now he understood. "It's complicated. Zach and Cammie – they've been best friends forever, and sometimes, it really seems like they're much more than that. But it's never really clear." Josh glanced towards the "best friends" again, and turned back to Macey. For a second, she could swear that there was jealousy, (and hate?) in his eyes.

"Don't ask me why they aren't dating. They sure know each other enough to be mistaken as a very young married couple. But sometimes, you just get this feeling that if their friendship moved onto something more, it would be the end of something too precious. Believe me, I mean it when I say that their friendship is like no other. It's something none of us have ever experienced before."

Then Josh grinned. And the tension seemed to decrease ten-fold, questioning Macey if she'd really felt those negative emotions radiating from Josh just a second ago.

"And so that's it? They're just friends?"

"Yes. At least –" The late-if-you-aren't-in-class-by-the-next-ten-seconds-bell rang, and immediately the halls started clearing. Macey started walking, expecting that Josh would continue what he was saying before she realized that he was heading in the opposite direction. Damn that stupid biology class. She was actually interested in some gossip for once.

Looking behind her shoulder, she caught Josh's head above the emptying crowd. "So what's your name?" He yelled, head getting smaller and smaller as he started jogging to class.

Macey smirked. Playing games. Finally, her forte. "That's for me to know, and you to find out!" She yelled after him, before realizing that she'd arrived at room 294, and ducked into the classroom. The exhilaration she'd felt a second ago evaporated.

Dozens of eyes staring at her. Shit. She hated being new. Drama queen that she was, she didn't like this type of attention.


	3. Chapter 2

**So I know that it took me THREE crazy months to finish such a lousy chapter as this but uhh.. I have an excuse! School's been, well, chaotic and I've been traveling a lot and… *chuckles nervously* Better stop before I dig myself into a bigger hole...**

**Ehh.. basically I don't really have an excuse? Except that I'm a REALLY REALLY REALLY lazy person that procrastinates a lot and almost never get anything done. So I'm EXTREMELY sorry and I promise that the next chapter will be here MUCH sooner!**

**Anyways, here's chapter two. I'll just, erm, stop talking now…**

The door of the classroom opened and the front leg of Mr. Anderson's porky figure squeezed in. Was that velvet red she saw? With a bit of a groan, and a determined mutter, his rounded belly entered the room as well, followed by that annoying little mustache, and Liz felt herself die a little. She'd been right. The eccentric Mr. Anderson had once again outdone himself – dressed in a very flamboyant Elizabethan plum red outfit, he'd even gone for a flat tudor cap with a rather gaudy feather sticking out of it. This could only mean one thing…

"Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight!/For I ne'er saw beauty till this night." Almost swooning a little, Mr. Anderson put a hand to his heart, trying to get the class into the mood for Romeo and Juliet. Essays, dissecting contemporary works, gosh, even creative writing! Liz had come to class, ready for some brain work in literature, but this… well, she should have expected it. All those mischievous smiles Mr. Anderson had been wearing for the past few days should have prepared her for another of his favorite classic love story acting sessions. And just her luck! He just had to choose Romeo and Juliet, the play that she hated most of all…

"By all of these cheery looks on your faces, I'm guessing that you're all looking very forward to another one of our Romeo and Juliet acting periods!" Taking the bored mumbles of the students' as an indication of "yes, they were very excited," Mr. Anderson cheerily went on. "Alas, we have a new student to welcome today first. His name is.. Joh..Johanne.. Johnsen..ehh." He coughed a little, trying to cover up the fact that he'd forgotten the name of the new student in his moment of enthusiasm with Romeo and Juliet.

"What was your name again, young man?" He said, glancing at out the doorway.

The class held their breath, wondering what kind of guy the new kid would be. Hot? Athletic? Nerdy? The group of cheerleaders sitting at the right were in need for a new guy to toy with. The Goths were looking for a new addition to their group. Who was going to get their wish?

Then a warm laugh came from outside the door, and a very male voice trailed in. "Jonas, sir." Forget the separate high school clans - all the girls in the class suddenly perked up with interest, trying to crane their neck to see if the new guy was as hot as his voice made him sound.

That was, except for Liz, who was too busy sweating over another dreaded lesson of Romeo and Juliet. She didn't really fit into any of the groups. Nerdy? Yes, she definitely was. But she liked being a teenager, liked occasionally using slang words. Yes, she'd known how to spell onomatopoeia when she was in kindergarten, but unlike the nerds, she didn't like flaunting her knowledge of big words. So she sat there, isolated in the very front of the class room, not belonging in any of the desk clutters around her.

Mr. Anderson chuckled, though a slight nervously. "Well..err..Jonas..come on in and meet your new classmates!"

And that was when half of the girls in the class showed Mr. Anderson just how a real swoon was done… because in strode an extremely cute looking guy. From the mop of mussed, but to-die-for light brown hair to his lean body to those intelligent looking glasses sitting on his nose (not to mention his quite delectable jeans-hugging behind), it was a wonder for some girls that they didn't faint.

"So.. tell us about yourself! Eh.. Joey, was it?" The new kid seemed to take pity on the teacher, and nodded his head.

Clearing his throat a bit, he flashed a rather sheepish grin at the class. Again, girls swooned.

"Well.. as you know. My name is Jonas. I recently moved from California, and, well, there's really nothing especially interesting about me… so I should really just go sit.." Jonas made an attempt to get himself seated in the closest, available desk…

Which was right beside Liz. He managed to make it halfway onto the chair before the baleful glare Mr. Anderson shot at him made him bang his legs into the metal chair legs, and stand back up quickly, looking slightly ruffled.

"Nonsense, young man! Come back up here and give us a proper speech!" The porky male teacher harrumphed. "I understand that you recently won this California Science Convention or something like that?"

"The International Science Fair, hosted in California this year, to be exact, sir. And I actually didn't win, I just won first prize."

If the leg-banging-against-chair-racket hadn't caught Liz's attention, this certainly did. Suddenly, her Romeo and Juliet fears were put aside, and Liz perked up.

The **International** Science Fair?

First prize?

And shoot, he was **the** Jonas McHenry?

That nervous boy standing in the middle of her very own humble high school was a legend!

As a matter of fact, the legend who'd been her idol for years!

How could she **not** have recognized him?

So caught up in this sudden whirlwind in her mind, Liz missed the rest of Genius McHenry, no! It was Jonas, him being a classmate of hers now. Liz had missed the rest of _Jonas's_ introduction. She was only brought back to the atmosphere of her classroom when she caught her name spoken up front.

"What did you say, boy?" Mr. Anderson was inquiring.

"You asked for the name of my student guide, sir. Says here that it's…" A little fumbling of paper ensued, while the ears of all the girls in the room all sharpened again, all having missed the first time he said the name of the lucky person, seeing as how they'd nearly been lulled to sleep by his warm voice.

"Um…Elizabeth Sutton?"

The hopeful doe eyes all around the room suddenly turned into daggers. Elizabeth? Were the rushed hisses that suddenly filled the room. As in Liz? As in that geek sitting in the front row, who doesn't have any friends? She's the guide of that brown-haired Adonis?

Liz, on the other hand, was just shocked. Oh no, she thought. Oh no, oh no, oh no. This was a nightmare. Admire an intelligent person? That she could do, and actually liked. But actually requiring her to converse with someone that she never thought she'd even set her eyes upon? No that was too much. She couldn't do this.

For god's sake, the longest conversation she'd ever had was with a teacher. And an old one too, very very ancient looking; she couldn't stand talking to one of those fresh, just-out-of-college teachers who had just too much enthusiasm. Well, she could count her dad, but he was gone so often on business trips that she couldn't even remember the last time they'd enjoyed a good ol' father and daughter talk.

But back to the disaster at hand.

"Ahh, yes! Elizabeth! That's Liz…" Mr. Anderson jabbed a pudgy finger in Liz's direction and lazily stroked the velvet that was barely covering his puffy figure, before suddenly bursting into a grin. "And this is perfect! There's an empty desk right beside her!" Liz thought that her teacher slightly resembled a constipated pig when he did this. In fact, she'd read up this article last week abou- oh shoot. The "pig's" words suddenly came through. The desk beside her? Not only did she have to Jonas's guide, she also had to sit next to him?

She stared as Jonas sauntered, _sauntered_! over to the desk next to her and sat down. Seriously? The boy had the brains, and now he also had that carefree attitude the best looking boys always possessed, the one which she'd spent years trying to avoid, because confidence in a boy? It meant trouble. And by gosh, he was _sauntering_. If that didn't tell her about his personality, nothing else would.

So when Jonas turned around, and introduced himself, and Liz had to fight off the shivers she felt from that sort of husky, yet sweet voice, because no! She wasn't the type that acted differently just because a guy was particularly good looking. He was one of those stuck-up guys she hated! At least that's what she told herself as she fought off the next batch of shivers when he asked, sounding surprisingly innocently curious, "So, you prefer Liz, huh?"

He was actually talking to her. Didn't these type of guys never talk to people like her? But, Liz had been brought up to be polite to everyone, even people she didn't like, so she decided that she might as well answer him. Knowing that the whole classroom had hushed upon hearing Jonas speaking, Liz couldn't help but stutter as she replied "Yes. Um..Eli- lizabeth is just a bi- bit too mature for m- me."

She let out a sigh of relief after managing to deliver that coherent, albeit halting, sentence.

Jonas nodded a bit too enthusiastically, and Liz couldn't help but wonder if this guy, who looked and walked with the air of cockiness, was actually nervous about talking _**her**_. An alarm went off in her mind. But then she quickly dashed that hope- no, more like disgusting thought! as he turned back to the teacher, and asked, sounding very relaxed indeed, about what the class was studying right now?

This set off another alarm in her head, as Liz quickly remembered what exactly had she been dreading this morning, before Jonas had stepped into the classroom. Although a quick look back to Mr. Anderson's red-fitted figure could have set it off just as well.

"Ahh… and it's back to our beloved Romeo and Juliet!" Mr. Anderson declared. "I've decided to do things a bit differently this time round, so instead of our usual limiting class acting session, we…" There, the teacher sucked in a big breath, trying to draw in suspense. "…are going to put on a motion picture of the play!"

This was where the different clans of high school really distinguished themselves from each other:

**Elated**: were the drama queens. Of course, a word with less flair like "excited" couldn't begin to describe their deep-seated moods! Ahh, and finally, high school had a point to it! They were already dreaming up their costumes, who their Romeos would be – since of course, the Juliet part would be theirs, and their stage names.

**Giddy**: were the wannabes. A play was, blah. But a movie? Yes! This sounded like something major, something that could make them even more popular (duh, they already **were** popular). _They_ were already planning on who to worship, who to hate, all in order to gain status from the attention that the movie would no doubtly get.

**Temporarily At Peace**: were the tortured artists. Romeo and Juliet. Yes, that could do. The sets in the play could be, a bit gothic? Since wasn't the time period around the gothic era? Or maybe, a touch of some… and they were off, momentarily happy at planning something they loved.

**Smiling**: were the tortured artists without the torture in them. Romeo and Juliet! That they could really make work. The sets in the play could have roses, beautiful olden time houses, a stunning moonlit night with just the right amount of yellow – yes, yellow! It worked well in the most vivid sets. This would be great, the thought, and turned around to discuss with the o' tortured ones to make up the best Romeo and Juliet sets ever made in history, because, they admitted it. What was beauty without angst?

**Excited**: were the nerds and geeks, because no, this word was _not_ boring! It was simply – used too often. The second "motion picture" had come rumbling out of Mr. Anderson's mouth, the people of this self-named "geek clique" had turned very excited indeed. A movie meant computers! Graphic design, video editing, ahh. The joys of being a computer brainiac! And for once, Liz agreed with them soundly, because computers were just about her life. She could hack (not that she'd ever tried to, her being such a good student), edit, destroy, and do all computer actions to just about anything that existed in the technology world. Which was why she was pulled into the geek clique's conversation by one of the nerds asking some questions about a particular computer program she knew a lot about – and found herself actually conversing with the lot of them, discovering that they really were the driest people she had ever met. But talking was still talking, and Liz found herself delighted with the fact that she could maintain a proper conversation with other kids her age. But as the group suddenly switched over to some fantasy video game or another, Liz found herself withdrawing from the nerds and geeks, and turning around to Jonas.

"So, how do you like Roseville High so far?" she asked timidly, honestly curious.

Jonas abruptly looked up from his lap, and looked around, before settling his eyes down at her. "You're asking me?" he asked, surprised.

"Well, we seem to be the only ones not really in a conversation, so, yeah, definitely," Liz mustered the courage to tease.

Chuckling nervously, and running a hand through his mop of brown hair (which Liz continuously told herself was not astonishingly attractive), Jonas said, "Well, I guess I'm not that used to having pretty girls talk to me."

And then Liz suddenly stiffened. She should have known that he was just one of those sweet-talking, charming guys, though quite a bit smarter than the majority of that type. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk that way to me," she said coldly.

Jonas looked genuinely surprised. "I… so-sorry," he actually stuttered, "but I really am not used to talking to girls. Actually, I'm not used to talking to _anyone_ around my age group."

When Liz raised an eyebrow, not quite believing, he quickly continued. "You see, I've been homeschooled ever since my first week of kindergarten, when they realized that I was too smart for school."

Seeing how Liz didn't look impressed, his eyebrows furrowed. "I really am sorry. I'm not exactly the most tactful of people, but I mean well, I really do. If I offended you, I didn't mean to." Finally accepting that he was telling the truth, Liz gave a small smile.

"I'm probably even less tactful than you are," she said, giving him a rueful smile. "I've offended so many people in this room in the past," and in case he wouldn't believe her, she gestured towards the cheerleading clan, who promptly glared back at her. Suddenly, Liz froze. The words she'd just exchanged with Jonas were probably more than the sum of all the words she'd ever said to a male classmate since high school. Had she really just done that? Conversed with another guy her age, almost normally? How had that happened? Liz wondered why exactly talking to Jonas had been so easy, but was distracted when Jonas opened his mouth, as if to ask a question, before his voice was drown out by Mr. Anderson standing with his hands on each side of his waste, looking quite vexed.

"What is this?" The teacher bellowed out. "I know, I know, this is very exciting indeed," here the nerds and geeks looked smug at how Mr. Anderson had used their favorite word, "but I have even BETTER news for all of you!" Not giving a second for everyone to process the information, he went on. "I'm going to pick out names for the cast and jobs randomly out of this hat!"

The class looked at him, stunned.

"Well, don't just sit there quietly! Let me know how much you love this brilliant idea!" And then everyone burst into angry conversations with their friends. Liz just gasped, causing Jonas to glance at her.

"Not an actor, I'm guessing?" He inquired.

Liz nodded vigorously. "Not just not an actor, but a very stage-frightened, stuttering non-actor with embarrassing past attempts at correcting that habit."

Jonas laughed, and once again, Liz had to fight those shivers. "Well, I'm –" Mr. Anderson interrupted whatever he said.

"I'm going to start picking out the cast first! Drumroll please!" Jonas glanced at Liz and rolled his eyes, as if saying , Is he always like this? And Liz shrugged, and grinned back. Mr. Anderson's voice came rumbling out again. "The role of Romeo goes to…" and picked out a scrap of paper, and she became nervous again – because the teacher _had_ been known for making girls play the roles of guys and vice versa in the past. "Jonas McHenry!"

Liz let out a sigh of relief, before realizing, did he say **Jonas**? Looking at the person beside her, Liz almost laughed at how pale Jonas looked. At least someone in the world was just as afraid to act as her, if not more. Then, realizing the Mr. Anderson was speaking again, Liz looked back to the front of the room. "Liz, would you please come to the whiteboard and write down the names and jobs as I read them out loud?" Relieved that there was work she could do while she worried on, Liz trotted obediently to the board and picked up a piece of chalk.

"And the role of Juliet goes to… Bree Fondalez!" The main cheerleader jumped out of her seat, squealing "I'm Juliet! I'm Juliet!" She rushed to Jonas's desk, grabbed his hand and said solemnly "We're going to be the best couple ever!" Putting a little bounce in the last word, she then glanced around the classroom giddily and realized that everyone was staring at her. "Well, don't let me stop you, Mr. A! By all means, please continue!" She blurted out, then skipped back to her seat, giggling.

Liz glanced at Jonas, and was satisfied to see the boy genius slightly disarrayed by the cheerleader's actions.

Mr. Anderson cleared his throat, and started talking again. "Now, I know that in the actual Romeo and Juliet story, Juliet was the lover of Romeo. But, I've decided to put a bit of a spin to story, and added a new character to the play! This new lady will be Romeo's love interest instead of Juliet, and get ready, everyone! Because it's going to be quite an intense, romantic ride!"

And then Liz knew what was going to happen next. She could feel it in her guts even before Mr. Anderson continued on. She could feel a dark dread coiling up in her stomach, tightening until it almost hurt, as the teacher said, "And the role of Alexi goes to…" Everyone held their breath. Mr. Anderson's eyes narrowed, before grinning. "Upside down!" He announced, flipped the piece of paper to the right side up… then repeated: "And Alexi is…"

"Liz Sutton!"

A piece of chalk dropped to the ground. All eyes followed it, as if they were in a movie, and a dramatic scene was being played in slow motion.


	4. Chapter 3

**I think this might be a sort of record for me :O Not that it's anything I should be proud of, since some people update DAILY. It's too bad that my poor brain could stand that much typing :P So here you go. The third chapter. Finished much faster than the second one. YAYYY**

Tap. Tap tap. Tap. Tap tap.

Bex grimaced, and turned around. "Could you not?" She asked the skater dude sitting across from her, who obviously thought of himself as quite the pencil-drummer. The guy looked up, and almost peed his pants when he realized that the infamous Bex was talking to him. He nodded at her almost frantically, "Yes! Of course! I'm sorry!"

Annoyed, she turned back to the laptop in front on her, and wondered…

How the **hell** did she end up in a classroom, two hours after school had ended? Right. It all started from that BLOODY song.

9:15 a.m.

_We're at the hotel, motel, Holiday Inn._

_We're at the-_

Bex Baxter bobbed her head to that lovable voice of Pitbull.

_-hotel, motel, Holiday Inn._

She grinned slyly as the song continued, head filled with dirty thoughts. This song, she decided, definitely made it to her favorite songs' list. As her favorite line was delivered through her headphones, she couldn't help but belt out the lyrics as they went.

"Then we're gonna go three, and three, you gon' undress, me!" She laughed, cranking up the volume on her i-pod, but the grin immediately sharpened into a snarling glare as she felt someone slap her on the butt. Whirling around, she found herself staring into the laughing face of her on-and-off boyfriend. Currently, they were in an "on" stage, but if he continued with this type of thing, she'd make sure the switch would be permanently-glued "off."

"Hey, Bex." Grant said, grinning that lopsided smile of his. "Singing again? I didn't think you'd dare after the last incident."

Bex opened her mouth to defend herself, before realizing what he was trying to do. "Don't try to distract me," she warned.

"Why, my lovely girlfriend, I have no idea what you're talking about!" Grant said, actually trying to act clueless.

Usually, it was this type of cuteness that got Bex all cuddly with her boyfriend. But it was also the type of cuteness that made her want to slug him across the face.

She spoke, through gritted teeth and a strong British accent (her England origin tended to show when she was at her angriest), "Did you, or did you not, just slap my BLOODY ass?"

"You're bloody?" Grant asked, as if this act would really work.

Bex inhaled a deep breath. "Grant. Tell me that you did not fucking say that to me."

Grant grinned. "Oh, but I did, babe." And then turned around to leave, giving her a two-fingered, very nonchalant salute as an after-thought. All the guys standing on the side stared at Grant in awe. Bex Baxter was known for her temper, and violence when provoked (which was often), and they couldn't believe that he was actually risking his life to slap her on the butt (though they all later decided that maybe, just maybe, she _was_ smoking hot enough to risk that). Grant was officially their idol now (though he already was before, him being the football team captain and Mr. Popular at Roseville High).

Bex, too, couldn't believe her eyes. Her mouth gaped open, though this was certainly not in _awe_. Grant did not just walk away from her. Nobody would ever dare do that to _her_. But then she blinked a few times, and realized that the impossible really was happening.

"You get back here, Grant Newman!" Bex screamed, her very tanned skin turning even darker at the face. "I'm not done with you!"

But all Grant did was look back over his shoulder and grin. "I know!" he yelled back. "Just getting a snack first, in case you scream at me for three hours like you did last time!"

It didn't seem like Bex could get any angrier than she was now.

But then Grant did one of those admiring-cocky guy whistles and hooted, "Girl's got stamina!"

And she knew she really couldn't. "Grant." She said, grinding her teeth together. "You get back here RIGHT. NOW. or don't expect me to talk to you for a WHOLE month."

She knew he'd do what she said. After all, who didn't refuse Bex Baxter when she was in a rage? And he did. But she didn't expect him to humiliate her _**so **_**much**. Turning around and running back to her with outstretched arms, Grant whooped to all of the spectators standing on the sides of the hallways, looking on with wide eyes, "You see? Obviously, Bex Baxter here will ALWAYS be the one wearing the pants in this relationship. But do I care? No, cause I am _WHIPPED_! Yeah baby! That's right! Whipped!" Then he enveloped Bex in a big bear hug, and Bex nearly teared off his fingertips, prying his arms off of her.

As if he didn't get the message enough, Grant continued, "You're awesome, babe!" And surprise, surprise, all the watching people broke into applause, as the golden boy of Roseville High concluded another of his just _heartrendering _speeches. That was, except for Bex.

_Whipped_, did he say? Then why the HELL did he just embarrass her in front of their classmates, and then HUG her when he knew that she hated being touched by other people?

She snapped her fingers in front of Grant's face, and hissed, "That's it. Two months. Starting. Now." Satisfied after Grant's ridiculous grin was completely wiped off his face, she turned around in a swoop, then stomped down the hallway, glancing at the side once to say, "Stare at me like that again, and you'll be sorry" to a freshman that was watching her with her mouth open.

Glaring back at the freshman, she continued walking, and found herself crashing right into someone. Wow, what was it with children these days? All muscle, no fat; she tried hard not to remember that she fit into that category herself.

Ready to punch the lights out of the person that had been stupid enough to bump into her, Bex looked up from her sprawled position on the ground, and found herself staring into the face of a Teen Vogue cover worthy girl. How was it possible that you couldn't see _any_ pores on her face?

But there was such an air of vulnerability in the girl's beautiful face, that she was immediately reminded of her best friend, Cammie. Who was this girl? She'd never seen her around before.

But then, as sudden as the crash, that naïve Cammie look vanished, and the beautiful girl's parted lips curled into a sneer. "What's your problem," she looked at Bex's apparel up and down, "Wannabe Jockette?"

Bex forgot about how much that girl reminded her of Cammie. She forgot that the girl seemed kinda interesting, someone she might want to get to know. Because nobody. NOBODY. messed with Bex Baxter and got away with it. And yes, that fiasco with Grant just now was just a mistake. She didn't want to think about that. That was soooo last minute's news. Bex stood up and brushed dust off her clothes.

"Fuck off, bitch." She said, glancing at the girl's outfit too, not bothering to censor her words. This girl could take it, she knew it. Nevermind her previous evaluation, judging by those combat boots, she looked like she could kick ass.

"Oh, how sweet." The girl sneered. "She even swears like a guy! It's okay, wuvvy." She crooned, in a baby voice. "Growing a few curves doesn't mean you're anywhere a woman. You can still pass of as a scrawny boy, though you'll have to find a way to bind _those_," she leered, indicating at her chest.

Bex's green eyes flashed. "Oh, let's not worry about that just yet, honey," she hissed. "We've got a bigger problem on our hands. So tell me. How much money, exactly, did Daddy have to throw away, for those plastics?" Looking at her nails, trying to act bored, Bex waited for the girl's probably just as bitchy reply. But when the girl didn't answer after a few seconds, she looked up.

So it seemed like she'd struck a nerve. The girl's Regina-George façade was down again, and she looked on the verge of some great big emotion. Bex couldn't help but grin on the inside; she couldn't help it if she was just a _teensy_ bit sadistic towards people she hated.

But then the moment passed, and the girl's "Mean Girls" mask was stuck back on, and Bex found herself reunited with the scowling girl from before. "Is that all you can come up with?" The girl demanded. Now that was more like it. A pitiful, weak attempt of–

But then suddenly the gir grinned. "And I thought that I'd find someone that I could actually find pleasure arguing with." She reached out a hand. "Truce?"

About a million ideas of what to do next rushed through Bex's mind. Bex Baxter wasn't Bex Baxter without her scheming, evil ways. 80% of those ideas had to do with hurting the girl. 15% of them had to do with graduating to the next step of those ideas- murder. But the remaining 5%...

Bex's mouth fell. But then she quickly realized that maybe, just maybe, Bex Baxter had finally met her match. So she did the right thing. She chose to follow that 5% inside of her mind, so she stood up and spitted out venomously, "You're a hardcore bitch."

Of course, Bex wasn't known for her forgiveness. Actually, she was infamous for her _non_-forgiving ways. But this girl… she had nerve.

So then she smirked, and said, "But, I like that." And reached out and shook hands with the girl.

The two turned around, and started walking down the hallway, swapping around the stories of the best catfight they'd had in their lives, and tips on making the meanest comebacks, as if two hating each other for one second, then becoming best friends the next was something perfectly normal. Which to these two peculiar teens, it probably was.

After a while, they both stopped in front of a classroom, catching their breaths, having arrived at the girl's next class. "I'm Macey, by the way." She said, as she opened the door.

Bex grinned. "Bex Baxter. If people other than family and friends call me anything but that, they're dead. But you on the other hand…" Bex pondered for a second, "remember it just in case, but I think we might just turn out to be great friends." Macey smirked, and turned to enter the classroom.

"Eat with me at lunch? You still haven't finished that gum-in-hair story!" Bex called after her, and Macey nodded and waved gleefully. "Oh. It gets better!"

Then the ten-minutes-till-class-starts bell rang, and Bex yelled a quick goodbye before turning around to leave. But before she even reached the end of the hallway, she crashed into another person for the second time today. This time, she stood her ground. She was in a good mood though, having finally found someone just as evil as she was, so she decided to let the person off easy.

That was, before realized that she'd bumped into a freshman with way too much gel in his hair. It looked as if his hair sweated hair products.

Then the guy recovered from the blow, and looked her up and down, appreciatively. "Hey sweetness." He said in a husky voice, which sounded completely wrong, cause' it broke when he said "sweet."

And Bex sighed. What was it with people trying to mess with her today? She'd actually considered being nice…

"Okay." She glared, stepping right up to his face. "So let's make this clear once and for all. Talk to me like that again, and you'll be lucky that you have a mouth to whimper to your mommy when you go home sobbing about how mean old Bex was to beat you up. Got it?" All the freshman guy could do was tremble a bit at the knees, and croak out a yes. Satisfied, Bex stepped back and attempted to leave, which was hard, because a crowd had collected, all of them hearing about her earliest spat with Grant, and the nasty fall with the new girl, who then turned out to be her new best friend?!? They were confused. What exactly was happening?

Bex finally shoved past the crowd. If another person decided to even look at her today, she swore she'd–"And by the way, Baxter!" Yet _another_ guy tried to make a move on her, this one obviously trying to be as "brave" and "suave" as Grant. If she wasn't as mad as hell right now, Bex would've laughed at how the guy had even tried to get his hair cut the same way Grant had his. Emphasis on the "tried."

"I wouldn't mind if," the Grant-wannabe smirked, then quoted the song she'd been singing earlier on, "you gon' undress me!"

Ohnohedidn't.

And this was how Bex Baxter ended up in detention with a bruised fist, surrounded by scared badass-wannabes who had apparently heard of _her_ badassness and that stupid guy holding an ice pack to his bloody, beat-up face, trying to sit as far away as he could from her. To hell with those hotel, motel, Holiday Inn's. Who knew that stupid song could have earned her three full weeks of after-school detention?


	5. Chapter 4

**So I decided to try first person in this chapter. Please review and tell me what you guys prefer (POV or third person?) :D**

Cammie POV

"He's looking at you again, Cammie." Tina Walters leaned forward to whisper in my ear.

I glanced at the clock one last time, and I swear, my eyeballs practically had a seizure. We were in art class, and I'd already suffered half an hour of constant looking at the clock, trying, _attempting_, to move the minute hand forward with my eyes so that I could get away from that evil girl; so sitting there and ignoring her seemed like the best choice. But then that big mouth of hers just _had_ to go and blow her artificial cotton candy breath into my ear into my ear, so I gave up and started to turn around in a last attempt to tell her politely that yes, I knew that, and no, it wasn't because he was interested in me, and yes, I was sure about that.

That "he" she was talking about was the new guy, Jonas, and he _was_ kinda cute. But he was the kinda cute that your parents would want you to date, the kind who was just sweet at the most exciting times, and boring at the not-so-exciting times – definitely not my type. Not that any guy was my type except for **him**. And **he** was pretty much out of reach. So really, Tina should just give up on getting me to date someone. Ever since she'd moved here three years ago, she made it her lifelong mission to set me up with as many guys as she could. Something about me "not being so noticed by guys, no offense honey;" and I'd already known that all too well.

It seemed like I needed to brush up my persuasion skills though, because Tina scooted forward in her seat, eager to contradict me. "Honestly, I swear, Cam!" "That hottie has been staring at you for the whole period!" When I didn't answer, she took that as a cue to whisper conspiratorially "You know, that new guy with the hot bod'! I swear, he looks just like this guy I dated back in Kindergarten. Carson? Carl? Cas? Oh right, that darling Casey! I mean seriously, they could be twins! That Casey was one cutie! We made the perfect couple… he even pushed me on the swings sometimes. Though of course, I only date buff guys, so he accidentally pushed me off the swings every single time. But of course, he meant well. I'd love to talk to him again. Wait. Are you sure that newbie's not looking at you? Maybe he's looking at me! I did wear my new outfit today! The pink seems to really complete it… and this mini skirt is _to die for_. You like it, don't you, Cam? It's the one I took pictures of and sent to you last week, remember? Oh, and did I tell about Calvin back in Kindergarten? Cause he looked just like this new guy does!"

Wasn't Tina just the sweetest thing?

No, really, she was like a piece of gum. I wasn't kidding. The second you meet her, the gum chewing cycle starts:

The first three minutes are pretty tasteful (but still not as good as chocolate, _yum_), but then the good flavor wears off, FAST, and then you're forced to chew on rubber. So then you look around and try to find a trash can or candy-wrapper-thingy, but of course, knowing your luck (or at least mine), you only see stuff that belongs to you, so you "discreetly" toss it on the ground and hope, for your sake, no one sees you do it and then steps in it.

But of course, they always do.

That just about summed up Tina. Yes, she was that simple. If only _**he**_ was that simple.

"Cammie? Cammie? You ARE listening, right? Cause I just decided. That guy REALLY is looking at you! Are you going to date him? Maybe even go to college with him, and then get married, and then-"

Now, anyone who knows me would tell you that I'm pretty much a sane person, but Tina was driving me **crazy**. I actually considered whipping out some duct tape and taping that big mouth of hers shut, and slap her not once, twice, but three times across the face, just like in those trashy mystery novels I occasionally guiltily indulge myself in. Then I remembered that I was supposed to be the female role model of our grade, and if I kept that position just a bit longer, I'd get a **freaking** gold star, so I tried to maintain my sunny role model-y smile. Sadly, I'd never gotten a gold star during my entire lower school life, so it was kind of a personal goal for me, right up there with how others shot to reach the top of Mt. Everest, or go to Harvard.

Sighing, I tried to convince myself that "s_he means well, she really does."_But that really didn't help. So I let my imagination run wild for a bit, you know, just a bit, for the sake of getting out of here without punching her._"She was just- raised up in a neglected childhood environment, so she just likes the attention. Yes, that's it. She was in this circus, and because she couldn't grow that beard she promised the ringleader she could have, she was ridiculed. So she just craves attention. Cammie, you be a good girl and give it to her._" I actually felt sorry for her. No, really, I did. I mean growing up in a circ- argh. Who was I kidding? I was seriously going crazy here. Circus? Seriously, circus? That was the best excuse I could think of? I inhaled a deep breath, plastered a big smile on my face, and spun around to look at Tina.

"Tina, that shirt really looks _great_ on you." Here I flashed a smile, since a bit of flattery always helped, but then she opened her mouth to comment on that, so I hurried on. "But, I'm really serious. For that last time, I'm not interested. And I'm sure he's not interested in me too. Remember that movie we watched in science class last week? About the chameleon?" She looked at me blankly.

"That animal you thought looked like a toad, and had its toenails on its head?" I rephrased, barely holding back that eye roll I was dying to do. She grinned, and nodded vigorously. "Yes! Yes! It was so ugl-"

"Anyways," I interrupted her. "I'm that chameleon." _Again_, she looked at me like I was crazy. "The toenail toad?"

She sighed, as if _I_ was the person who wasn't listening in class. "Really, Cammie. Next time just say so. You know Mr. Forbisse likes us to call animals by their real names."

I give up.

Really, I do.

Tina.

That name was so… simple.

Why couldn't **darling** Tina here be the same?

Argh.

Well. Actually now that I thought of it.

She was too **simple**-minded.

And she looked like she actually wanted an answer.

"Anyways. Let's forget about the chameleon."

_Another_ blank stare. "Err… So I have a feeling that he's looking at me to make you jealous. He probably really likes you, but kind of shy? It's all part of this stealthily-but-actually-purposely-looking-at-another-girl complex goggles psychological directive, and he thinks it works." I had no idea what I just said, but making things sound complicated discouraged Tina from snooping any further. Now, the shy part I'd talked about was definitely true, judging by how he kept to himself even with a bunch of girls kept throwing themselves at him, but that part about him liking her? It probably wasn't true, because in truth, her new outfit looked pretty awful. Pink seemed to be the main color, and it did not go well with her green leggings and glitter-on-bedazzled earrings. And I was probably being nice with that statement.

But hey, if he was one for human neon signs, who was I to stop him?

And then the bell finally rang. Now **that** was the neon alarm for me. Bolting off my desk, desperate to get away from Tina, I contemplated being good and dropping by the teacher's desk to assure Mr. Stewart that I'd learned _just soooo much_ about the history of art (it was a required unit all art teachers had to teach, and since all the artsy teachers hear at my school had gypsy blood in them, they **hated**teaching it), but then I saw the new kid looking kind of confused, so I went over to ask him if he was okay.

No, I wasn't being **nice**. I didn't **do** nice. Helping new students contributed a lot to getting a gold star.

So there I was, trying to look welcoming, when Tina randomly chased after me and gave me a hug, whispering, "You go get him, girl!" Ugh. You go get him, girl? Trust Tina to make everything sound suggestive. Tearing off her with a barely smiled apology, I got back on task to see that the back of the new kid's leg was already disappearing out of the door.

I ran after him; after all, I took my job as a model student **very** seriously. Too bad it was my little genetic problem I forgot to take "very seriously."It was called my "two left feet," and you may laugh and all, but trust me. It could really kill someone. I think I did once, actually. But that was back in first grade. Something about a rubber chicken. And this freaky Mohawk midget dude? But alas, I was straying from the matter at hand.

Just before reaching the guy – Jonas, I think his name was – I extended an arm at him for a good ol' classmate to classmate handshake, and I couldn't believe just how **nice** I was being! But then my awkward out-of-water fish syndrome (for some reason, doctors loved to name diseases more than one name) caught up with me, and I went lunging forward; falling face flat on the tiled floor before Jonas's feet, my hand ending up grabbing his leg instead of hand. Ooh. It was surprisingly smooth. Not that I was grappling at him inappropriately or anything. Of course not.

I felt my face heating up, and I tried to get up, before I realized that his pair of converse was just the coolest shade of dark blue. Hoping to sound like I was sure of myself, I remarked, "You know? I've always wanted shoes just this color," hoping he actually took me seriously and wasn't staring at me funnily. Then I noticed that his whole body was shaking, and I quickly tried to stand up, just in case I'd given him a panic attack or something like that. I was known to make people have them quite frequently, though I myself was quite sane. But then I realized that I'd miscalculated my location (which was under the water fountain, for some dumb reason), and my head collided with the metal to make the brightest thud, ever. I swear I could be a pair of cymbals if I put my mind to it.

So then I rolled over, in one totally **ninja** movement, groaning in the _overwhelming_ pain I was suffering from, with my head throbbing like crazy, when I realized that the guy was actually LAUGHING at me. LAUGHING. AT ME. So maybe it didn't hurt as much as I tried to make it seem like, but come on! I was supposed to be that nice, role-model worthy girl who thoughtfully reached a hand out to help him, the SEEMINGLY-quiet new guy, and here we were, almost as if with switched roles, looking like I was the underling and he was the confident person. And he was LAUGHING.

I growled and pumped my fist up to wave it menacingly in front of his stomach (somehow, that made him laugh even louder), and was about to show the guy a piece of mind by jumping up and smacking him on the head before I heard the familiar sound of clickety clackety clonk stop right in front of me a little bit too late. Shit. Principal Davis. She was known for her love of "antique" clothing, and right now, old shoes were what were "in."

Her feet shifted a bit more, towards my nose.

I gagged. And _apparently_, old shoes meant unwashed shoes.

I heard her clearing her throat exaggeratingly (something about her being a control freak, and always having to feel like she was the man; well, she did look kind of like a man at times, if that was any condolence to her).

"Miss Morgan…" her displeasure was obvious in her tone. "After last time, when you –" I shut my eyes close, and tried to shoot telepathic waves over to her, begging her _please, please,__**please**_, not talk about what happened "last time." But alas, life just loved to dump shit on me. Wait. It was more than that. It was like a **constant** dog-pee-evaporated rain cloud showering over me, 24/7. "When you glued all the toilet lids in the MEN'S restroom to the seats after feeding the entire school hearty dosing of your grandpa's famous beans –" here, I tried to interrupt her, but she held up a hand, which actually shut me up. I thought it was maybe because I had a strange phobia with adult hands; no way was it that I was just scared of her. So then she continued, and I squeezed my eyes even tighter, cause I could feel Jonas shaking once again, "- I thought you'd learnt your lesson! After all, you're one of the school's best students! I'm guessing you didn't. So what exactly do you think you're doing, terrorizing our newest student?"

I had an excuse. I really did. I could win an election with my famous spur-of-the-moment made-up-in-one-second excuses! And this… this was the mother, NO, king of all my BRILLIANT excuses. I just had to, well, think it up?

"Eh. Just admiring him from down here. You know, the lighting is really just great from this spot! It's all part of the love for 'new students' fad this year. I'm taking photos of Jonas for the yearbook, you know, with this…" I picked up the closest object to me and waved it at the principal. "see? The best camera there is! It's an… um… well. It's name is too foreign to remember!" She squinted and stepped closer. "Cammie…" She said slowly, as if I was a mentally retarded person. "That's a shoe."

I tried my best to look offended at her remark, and approached the situation through a different light. "Principle Davis. I'm feeling very indignant! You see. I'm of French origin, and when the French say something's in, it's in, comprendes?" Pursing my lips poshly, I proceeded to rant in what I felt like sounded perfectly French-like words, "Ar vius celle pinse cras une dous trois… uh… I mean… ahh… cinq, six, seveniu, eightai, ninus-" Though I **know** I sounded truly _Fa-la-ren-chi_ (for those who aren't as French intellected as me, I meant 'French') when I said all that… I must say that I was glad when I was finally got rescued.

"Actually, principal. **I'm** of French Origin. Uh…" Jonas, who I deemed two seconds ago as, **very cool**, staged whispered at me, still shuddering with laughter, "What was your name again?" It seemed like he was kinda making fun of me, but I was beyond caring. Him being of French Origin? Puh-lease. _I_ was the Marie Antoinette of this century!

All this whispering though - I felt like I was a spy, and Jonas was in my partner-in-crime. We were on a mission against the notorious Shoe-as-Axe Murderer: Davis, and we were doing great. "Cammie!" I whispered back, right under the gaze of Principal Davis, and I just felt _so_ proud of myself.

"Right. Cammie here was just examining my antique shoes here sent all the way from France." Score! This guy was a GENIUS.

Principal Davis just about grinned her prim face off. No one knew how this intimidating, five foot eight, all-business woman who rarely even so much as smiled could have such a passion for old things, but she did. Actually passing hall passes enough for us to last eight periods, she told us that children these days sure knew how to pick their clothing, and was off, _giggling_ to herself all the way down the hallway, back to her office.

The second that office door of hers snapped shut, I got to my feet, making sure not to hit the water fountain. "That was awesome!" I exclaimed to Jonas.

"Yeah, wasn't it?" He replied smugly, **entirely** different from how I'd imagined him as.

Hm. He'd been pretty cute when he looked shy… but now that I saw this side of him, he was actually pretty hot. Not that it mattered. No one could beat **him**. But well, a girl had to use her eyes for_something_, didn't she?

"But wait… are you seriously French?"

"No way!" He snorted. "I'm the least culturally diverse person you could ever met!"

I was relieved. "Good, cause I met this French dude once, and he criticized my French! Like seriously, my accent was better than his! You better not be like that…" I warned him menacingly.

He was shuddering so much after I said that that he couldn't even put together a coherent sentence.

Trying to forgive him for laughing at me yet again, I suddenly realized that I hadn't introduced myself yet. Some role model student I was!

"So… I'm Cammie." I had this really warm tone to my voice, and I was confident that it would make me the best student ever.

"Hey." And… he was back to shy again. I ought to have guessed. "I'm… uh, Jonas." I guess my tone wasn't as warm as I thought it sounded.

There was a period of awkward silence, and I honestly considered making like a banana and split, without receiving my gold star and all. Yeah, I was cool like that.

But then I realized that I was still holding his shoe. Talk about weirdness of situations? I opened my mouth, and like always, I blabbered out some utter nonsense. "Uh…so thanks for giving me your shoe! You want it back now? Cause it's a pretty cool shoe… even though it's not actually from France. So yeah, you want it back, yeah? Yeah, you probably do. Cause you know, you gave it to me and all." I wanted to slap myself. Duh. Of course he wanted his shoe back.

But surprisingly, that seemed to crack his ice yet again.

"Actually… I never lent it to you. You stole it, you shoe stealer!" He teased.

Some type of bipolar, wasn't he?

Rolling my eyes at him, I bent down and started picking up my stuff that I'd dropped when I'd "bumped" into him.

Being a polite guy seemed to be his third personality, cause he immediately crouched down and helped me gather everything together. His hand reached out for my binder, then hovered over it for what seemed like ages.

"You got a problem?" I asked him in my best "bored" tone, because honestly, if he wasn't in mood for a conversation, **I** certainly wasn't known for being one who made efforts towards lost causes.

"You like the Black Petals?" He said, his voice now seemed to be amped up with a thousand volts, as he pointed at the big black band sticker I'd stuck on the cover of my binder.

I grinned. He'd recognized their sign? Now, I'd said this once, and a million times already. This guy _sure_ was a keeper. I couldn't imagine people doubting that for a second. "Like them? They are my LIFE! Why, are you a fan?"

He smirked. "Well, let's just say that they're life or death to me. So try and beat that!"

And… that was it. Once someone got me talking about my favorite band in the whole entire UNIVERSE, I couldn't stop. And if that person just happened to love them as much as I did, well, let's just say I'd declare them my soul mate if it wasn't for **him**.

So we chatted. And chatted some more. And I realized that I was really in need of some water because I was just parched, before my tummy growled, and his followed soon afterwards, where, pretty soon, we were making hunger music. This seemed like a sign to us that lunch was already twenty minutes in (of course, that glance I had at my watch might have helped a bit too), so we both headed off to the cafeteria to the _just_ pleasing smell of lunch lady-made cafeteria gruel. Mm mm.

No, not really.

To cover up the kinda nasty grumbling sound emanating from our stomachs, I jumped right back into the conversation. "So really, I preferred it when Dewey was the guitarist, y'know? I mean, Jake's good and all but..."

"He doesn't have the same enthusiasm, right?"

"Exactly!" Five days back to school, and I already had that feeling warm feeling you get when you think that your school year is going to be wicked.

But then I entered the cafeteria, and I saw **him** in a _very_ heated conversation with an absolutely stunning girl, and my happy feeling disappeared just like that. Ladies and gentlemen; Zachary Goode, notorious player of the entire Roseville district, my best friend since forever, and _currently_, for, say, **only** the last two years of my life: the guy I'm secretly in love with.

Zach POV

*Twenty minutes ago

Lunch. **Lunch.**_**Lunch.**_

I was starving, and Cammie was nowhere in sight. I'd been standing in front of her art classroom door dutifully for ten minutes, the brilliant best friend I was, and _this_ was how she was paying me back? By making me starve slowly, while breathing in those disgusting toxic fumes of lacquer paint? Argh. No matter what Josh said about her – she was capable of **cruel, cruel, cruel** things.

A dainty, very _familiar_ cough came from behind me, and I swear, that shook me up way more than my hunger did. Then a sarcastic snicker followed it, and I almost didn't care that I wasn't an old man; I wanted to die of heart failure right there and then. Of all the students in the world, God just _had_ to send the two girls that were tied first place on my "rejected girls" hall of fame; Delaina and Eilie. And it was without teacher supervision too!

"So… Zachiekins. Why didn't you call me?" Ugh. Delaina was the **worst**. She had a sickly sweet voice that she thought appealed to guys, but it was so honey-coated that even bees would take their time to avoid it.

"Oh, I'm sure _Zachiekins_ will tell us why he didn't call you, you being so sweet and all, Delaina honey." I almost laughed at Eilie's sarcastic remark before I remembered that sure, she hated Delaina, but it was_me_, I recall, that she was last out to draw blood from. But then her next comment surprised me. "Seriously, though, Zach. Why didn't you call? I thought you said you would!"

Okay, seriously, what was with the water here these days? My exes always seemed to be under the delusion that a polite "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in a relationship right now" meant an outright suggestive "I'll call you tonight, babe!" Even Eilie, who I swear was almost as cool as Cammie before, had become this needy girl. I knew I might have encouraged both of them a little bit too much, but seriously, weren't they supposed to hate me instead of stick to me? I really wanted to pull the old banana trick and split **(AN: Ha! See what I did there? Zach and Cammie even think similarly! Clever, if I may say so myself.)**, but the girls suddenly became considerate again and helped me solve my problem.

"Call you?" Delaina scoffed. "Why would Zachkin Pumpkin call you? Like, uh, hello, you don't even wear skirts!" I knew that I had a thing for dumb blondes, but seriously, wasn't this even too much for me?

"Like, uh, hello, but I don't **fucking** know. Maybe it's because he DOESN'T LIKE BEING CALLED THAT?" And that was the beginning of one of those hot cat fights that I usually liked to watch, but my stomach was really having a serious growling session, so I slowly backed away, shouting a very polite apology of, "Sorry to part with you girls, but I've got some important business to take care of!" Like my poor old stomach. All that drama had seriously emptied my stomach.

But then I found myself bumping into a curvy-in-just-the-right-places body, and all was forgotten. Feeling myself practically tackling the girl to the ground, I quickly jumped to my feet and reached out a hand to help the hottie up. I almost couldn't stop myself from yelling SCORE! when I saw that she was one of those haughty blonde ice beauties that were just, ironically, scorching hot. Flashing my famous smirk, I exclaimed "Oh! It's a sad day when a guy like me pushes a girl so dazzling to the ground! Let me help you u-"

"-what the HELL is wrong with people these days!" The girl snarled, ignoring my hand completely. "This is my second time colliding into someone today, did you know that?"

When I opened up my mouth, hoping to deliver a smooth one-liner, she interrupted me _yet_ again. Weren't girls supposed to fall to their knees when they saw my smirky good looks?

"But you probably wouldn't care less, right? 'Cause you're just trying to pick up yet another pretty face. Well, mister. You better fucking believe me when I tell you this: You're. Not. Gonna. Get. A. Single. Inch. Of. This. Girl. And that's really the truth."

Fiesty. I loved that, I really did. After all, if I didn't, I'd probably killed Cammie long ago.

"Oh, believe me, I don't need a single inch. I was just hoping to be your friend! Yeah, I believe that could fit into your busy, busy big girl schedule!" Then I flashed her another smirk.

But instead of melting into a puddle at my feet, the girl actually stood up _taller_. Really, I could give up on her if I wanted to. She should just accept my charms and be happy; hell, any other girl gladly would. "Ha!" She laughed dryly.

I was offended. My jokes were **funny**. What was she doing, being sarcastic with me?

"The reason I don't want to have ANYTHING to do with you isn't because of my busy schedule," she continued. "It's not even cause you're outright the worst pick-up liner I've ever met! Or even that what you call a sense of humor is what some people might use to send off the miserable folk to a 'better place.' If you big boy don't know what that means, I'm talking about killing them with their absolutely no sense of humor! It's because you're a conceited, ugly, smug -did I mention vomit-worthy?- guy who—"

"Wait a minute. You. Aren't attracted to. Me?" I was shocked. That wasn't possible. I'd been voted "Best-Looking" all three years so far of my high school life, and this girl seriously thought that she could just waltz in here and tell me that she didn't think I was hot?

"Well, it's not that I'm not attracted to you," she said, suddenly shy, and flashing a sheepish smile. And the stars were aligned. I started to see things normally again. So she _did_ think I was good looking. Of course she did! Anyone who didn't think Zach Goode was good looking would have to be more than insane. But then she opened her mouth again, and her whole expression turned bitchy. Uh-oh. This couldn't be good.

"Which, obviously, I really am not." I felt my jaw drop open, and she just continued. "It's because it's so easy to tell that you're that type of self-absorbed guy who probably doesn't even date girls, only pretends that he does, and I know this just from looking at you." I tried to interrupt her, to tell her to get her eyes checked, but then she just forced her way onward. "And I actually go for that type of guys most of the time! But seriously, you are a fucking idiot! Who pushes a girl to the ground, and then says a pick-up line to her?"

I had to remind myself that she was a girl to refrain from beating her up. An idiot? That I wasn't. Sure I was conceited – and who wouldn't be, with my looks? – but I was definitely not stupid. "Seriously? You're mad about just being pushed to the ground?"

"And your eye color!" She continued to rant. "Who has eyes the color of un-polished emeralds mixed with polluted sea? I mean, come on! At least just go for a harmless bright green!"

So now it was about my eyes, huh? Well, she was one to talk. "How about _your_ eyes? They're the mixture of a poorly bleached blue shirt and foggy afternoons! What's with that, huh? Oh, and seriously, stop trying to be all cool and go against the code of blondes! Put some fucking makeup on, would you? And stop coming up with actually plausible comebacks! Act your type!" What was this girl's problem? Here I was, the epitome of a bad-boy hottie, all ready to give her her time of day, and she was treating me like shit.

"And what's with **your** brain? Try to be stereotypical for once, and go back down the hallway to those two poor girls who are fighting over you, and gloat about how 'appreciated' you are, or just go stuff yourself with 'manly' food!"

"I was! Until I bumped into you! You disgust me so much you made me lose my appetite!"

But then my stomach growled, and she smirked at me. _Smirked_! That was supposed to be MY signature thing to do!

"More like you made me lose _my_ appetite!" She gloated. "But still, I'm off to lunch! Because unlike you, I actually have a **girl** friend who doesn't just want to get into my pants."

And she made it seem like an insult...

"Oh, I **do** have girl friends, with a space in between. Matter of fact, I actually sit with them at lunch!" I felt slightly indignant, her making it seem like I lived for girls fawning over me. I was a good guy! Slightly self-absorbed an all that, but overall, great! I sat with Cammie and Bex almost every single lunch, and girls practically killed to sit in the table next to mine.

I guess we were seriously pissed, because we were in front of the cafeteria, dust still flying behind us from our ferocious stomping, in a matter of minutes. Not that I was walking **beside** that girl. It was more like she was trying to prove that she was better than guys, which really wasn't necessary. I could be a cocky guy, but I definitely wasn't sexist. Hell, Cammie used to beat me in _everything_.

So we both stepped into the cafeteria, and I was excited to finally get away from the girl, and disappear into the masses of disgruntled high schoolers who were moaning about horrible cafeteria food, when Bex stood up on our usual table, and waved towards me. "Over here! Over here!" Did she think I was an idiot or what? We'd been sitting at the exact same table for the last three years or so in high school, and she still thought I couldn't remember the way to it?

But then I heard something I didn't even know I hated until I heard it for the first time.

"Over here, Macey!" And then the blonde girl was pushing in front of me, glancing back at me to smirk, and say, "See? That's one of those girl friends I was talking about." She started walking towards Bex again, before looking back again, this time saying, "And judging from the glare she's giving you right now, there's yet another girl here that doesn't want to date you! I guess you're not as popular as you think you are…" She left the sentence hanging, and my jaw couldn't help but fall. She wanted a fight? I'd give her a war. It was **on**.

**Hahaha. So some of you might hate me for making Zach sort of Grant-like, and self-conceited. But trust me, he's better than that. I just haven't made him seem so yet :P**

**Oh, and remember! Please review and tell me what you think of my use of first-person. Like it? Hate it?**

**Right now, I'm planning on doing third person most of the time, and occasionally go first person with Cammie. What did you guys think of Zach's POV? Did it seem guy-like enough? Or did I still make it sound like a girl talking? Cause if you guys like it, I might do that too sometimes. So please, review and tell me your thoughts so I can make the story better!**

**Also, thanks to all of you who have reviewed so far! Especially those super long reviews- I'm a rambling type of girl – they've helped and inspired me tons! I'm still working on updating faster, and it might seem like I'm not progressing on that, but trust me, I am! :)**


	6. Chapter 5

**Hello people. It's been a long time :P Sorry about that! Summer's just been hectic, and stuff like that.**

**I'd just like to thank my beta, Maysun Rain (Soleil Avant la Pluei?), for putting up with me even though I complete chapters rather inconsistently and only when I don't have writer's block (which is rarely).**

**So I just realized yesterday that some people have mentioned that Macey's hair is black and Cammie has… blue eyes? **

**I've never been one to note character's physical characters, so I usually just have this image of my version of them in my mind. I'd love to go back and make all of these details right though, except the fact is, I have no idea how to revise previous chapters :P Anyone mind teaching me?**

**So anyways, enough of my blabbering. Here's chapter five, hope you like it :)**

Macey liked to think that she had heard a lot of things in her life, but she'd only _learnt_ a few. And of these few things that she'd learnt, there were only three major lessons that were seriously important:

Cappuccinos and soda did not mix well (especially on nights before "special" days, where it was guaranteed she would do something stupid like attempt to give a lap dance on the counter during Leslie Walter's bar mitzvah )

She _**was**_ capable of murder (damn that Christopher Marsh back in sixth grade – he'd just barely gotten away)

Never, ever, trust a guy.

The third one was pretty much self-explanatory. Oh, sure, guys were fun to look at, maybe date for a while, with benefits of not having to drive anywhere, or carry her books. You see, Macey was one cold, manipulative bitch. It gave her some kind of a thrill to call herself that, at least.

Make no mistake – Macey did appreciate hot guys. Just because she didn't trust them didn't mean that she didn't like to date them. She wasn't that into candy (she'd already experienced enough disgusting sweetness from those wannabe girls that often tried to befriend her with flattering), but as for _eye_ candy. Well, she could only use one word: **Yum**. She was a human database of guy knowledge, too. Her philosophy: see 'em, grab 'em, serial-date 'em, benefit from 'em, get-tired-of-'em, dump 'em, and repeat (of course, with a different, _hotter_ guy). Simple, and, well, what could be better than tasting all of her favorite eye candy flavors this often?

So maybe Macey hadn't always thought this way. But people changed. Seriously, she used to wear _yellow_. Nowadays, she couldn't even stand being under the orange sun for too long. So really, she didn't give a damn about the "lost cause" and "teenagers these days" talk that always surrounded her whenever her relatives came to visit.

Now, there was one thing that was impossible for Macey not to make clear whenever she met someone: When Macey McHenry wants to jump as high as she can, the sky, hell, the _universe_, is barely the limit. So though it might have been hard to imagine – Macey had a list of rules for herself that she **had** to follow (lists were good, they were consistent. No, she wasn't a _nerd_ because she liked making lists), no matter what. And of that list, one was pretty important – _The more asshole-y the guy, the more you should date them_. Yes, this rule did sound like utter bullshit. But, as said before, she was a guy expert. And she had more philosophy behind this rule then Aristotle ever did behind his faulty theories.

You see, girls usually avoided dating jerks because they were afraid of getting hurt.

But one needed a heart to for this to happen, and Macey knew, even _deep_, **deep**, **deep**down in her – no lie – that she didn't have a heart. Not in the metaphorical sense, anyway. So, for her, it was all the more fun to date players, bad boys, probably certified heartbreakers; the whole lot of them. Somehow that whole "serving others their own medicine" had lost its honorable meaning, and become one of her daily delights. She just _loved_ seeing the expressions of the guys when they realized that she'd been the one to dump _them_. Call it feminism. Macey delighted in calling it "bitchiness only Macey McHenry could ever achieve".

So it was a mystery as to why she'd instantly repelled against Zach. Hadn't he been the very epitome of the type of guy expressed in her rule? Hadn't he sneered at her, like she was some type of property he wanted to own, when he crashed into her? She tried to forget the fact that his intense green eyes _had_ looked pretty concerned when he'd reached out to help her up, before turning his face into a, what had almost seemed strained, leer. Because tricks from the lighting could easily have done that. And he _must_ wear green contacts, because it just wasn't legal for a guy to have eyes as green as the ones she'd found herself gazing into, drowning into, **glaring** into.

And then he'd gone on about her eye color, as if he'd just read her thoughts, which had made her all the more suspicious that he was some telepathic evil villain coming to recruit her for her history of ruining people's lives. So all thoughts of him even so much as having a heart were immediately abolished, probably forever, from her mind.

And now it was lunch time, and even though she _was_having fun chatting with Bex about exciting nothings, and getting to know the Liz girl – who she'd been skeptical about at first, with her sweet smile and all, but then she'd warmed up to fast – she couldn't help but be aware that Zach was sitting just across of her, staring intently at his hand that was practically attacking his food, seemingly mulling something important over. _Probably trying to decide who to sleep with next_, she snickered to herself. Did guys even like him? Macey wondered. He was, after all, sitting at a table, with three other girls, and him as the only guy.

"I mean, seriously, Juliet isn't the main character? What was Mr. Anderson even thinking? Juliet needs to be the lead female role, and I should just be a tree. A girl's got to have a knack with acting as plants when she mentions them as often as me! I mean, Macey's known me for, say, ten minutes, and she's already heard me say 'oopsie daisies' four times, right guys?" Liz rambled.

Bex quickly gave a surprisingly chirpy agreement, and nudged Zach to get him to do the same.

Zach looked disgruntled at having to tear his eyes away from his food, but still managed to glance over at Liz to grunt a, "Yeah," and then promptly continued ignoring all of them.

Satisfied with the confirmations she got from Bex and Zach, Liz turned over to Macey.

"Right, Macey?" She asked impatiently.

"Uh, definitely." Macey replied distractedly, barely even processing what she said, before finally she couldn't hold it in anymore.

"COULD YOU **please** just stop fondling your broccoli? I know action must be hard to get for you these days, with your messed up face and all, but is molesting your food really the way to satisfy yourself?" She snapped at the sullen looking Zach, who was still staring down at his plate.

Zach looked up, and it took a few seconds for him to focus on Macey and realize that he'd been the one she'd been talking to. But he didn't miss a beat after that, and delivered back, "Practice makes perfect, darling. Unless you'd rather me practice on you?"

"I don't really see a point in doing so because if that's what you call _practicing_, then you should be busy trying to find a better way to keep your imaginary girlfriend."

"Oh, did I not mention to you that I don't date? Sorry to disappoint."

Macey's eyes narrowed. "Righttt. Even imaginary girls wouldn't want to date you. Excuse me for forgetting that."

"Why would I want imaginary girls when I have all the real girls I could ever want?" Zach motioned vaguely to the table next to them, and right on cue, all the girls that had previously been glaring jealously at the pair swooned and batted their eyelashes at Zach.

"You retard." Macey deadpanned. Was there really any guy in this world seriously capable of being **this** shallow? Oh wait, correction. There wasn't, only one that was **more** so. And he was smirking right in front of her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, you got my name all wrong" he drawled, then gave a mock bow. "Zachary Goode to your service. But don't except _Zach_ with the _Six-Pack_ to be _Goode_ in front of such a pretty lady as _you…d_." He finished with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Macey opened her mouth and argued back, not noticing that all the while she'd been exchanging insults with Zach, Bex had been staring over to the side with a desperate look on her face, and Liz, being Liz, had not only spilled her milk but torn off two of her cardigan buttons during the process, while watching their fight with her mouth open. She did, however, stop arguing for a second to catch a breath, which was when a very **loud**…

"Oh **day-um**!"came bursting out from behind her. A grinning blonde guy bounced in front of Macey, and held a hand out as if expecting her to shake it. Startled, Macey quickly sat back down onto the bench. She'd been so infuriated that she hadn't realized that she and Zach had both shoved off their seats ages ago, glaring head to head.

"Well? Are you going to shake it or not?" The guy asked her, as if shaking the hand of a random stranger was exactly what he did everyday.

"Am I supposed to?" Macey asked him, too surprised by his interruption to be any more than curious.

"Hell yeah!" The guy grinned. "Anyone who's able to make Zach this mad in an argument deserves a high-five from the Grant Master."

A few awkward seconds of silence followed, and it fueled the guy's enthusiasm even more. "Come on! Slap it. _Slap it_. You know you want to!"

Macey raised her eyebrows, and, (_what-the-hell, she was at public school, what could be worse?)_reached out to smack his out-stretched hand. But then a smooth arm snaked in and slapped Grant's (Macey assumed that was the guy's name, instead of _the Grant Master_) hand before Macey reached it.

"If that was true, then you would think that you'd slapped my hand enough times for your entire arm to need amputation." Said the girl that had reached out that arm.

Macey whirled around to see **who dared**to cut in when Macey McHenry was about to give a, _totally a spur-of-the-moment, lame behaviored,_high five. But then her vision adjusted, and she realized that it was that girl from this morning, the one she had mistaken for dating Zach. Hadn't Macey decided that the girl was most definitely friend material? So she decided to let that little slip-up pass.

"Aw, Cammie, jealous?" Grant teased, dropping his arm, already forgetting about the high five. _Guys_, Macey thought. 1% of their minds was actually decent, 20% was to do with food, sleep, TV, and sports, 40% was to do with girls and being _distracted_ by girls, and the rest was all bullshit. "You know no one could ever replace the chameleon of my jungle."

"Ugh, Grant!" Cammie exclaimed, "I don't even want to know what that meant! And stop that whole 'I'm your best friend' act, I'm not gonna help you AT ALL this time. Bex already told me what happened this morning. Seriously? Seriously, you just **had**to do it?" She gave Grant a steel stare that actually had Macey impressed.

"Cameron Morgan!" Grant declared, giving a mockingly shocked step back for affect. "I'm just assuring you that no one, and I mean, **no one**, could ever, EVER beat your ever _witty_ comebacks! I am _so_offended!"

"_Right_." Cammie finally gave in, and Grant, probably being Grant, Macey assumed, took it as the word's non-sarcastic definition.

She swung around and faced Macey, and a smirk settled in on her face that totally did not go with the good girl vibe Macey had picked up this morning. "Well, well, well. It seems like you're Zach's new toy, huh? At least that was what I could tell from those heated, passionate vibes coming from the both of you even halfway across the cafeteria. So what's your name, hon?"

**That bitch**! Was all Macey could respond in her mind.

But of course, in the real world, Macey was more than prepared for sudden turnings of events such as this. Which was why she almost reached a hand out to slap the girl, before Cammie turned her attention onto Zach. "And thanks for not waiting for me, Zach!" She exclaimed, venting her anger for who knew what onto that trivial matter.

Zach gave an indignant sniff. "You know how I am when I'm hungry, Cam!"

"Girls, _girls_," Bex said, exasperated, but making sure to wink knowingly at Zach when she emphasized the second 'girls,' "let's not fight!" Then she gave Cammie a meaningful look. "Let's start with some introductions!"

"This is Macey McHenry, people! She's cool. Maybe. Depending on whether or not she's like this _all_ the time."

Bex then pointed, "And Macey, this is Grant, who I am NOT dating, nor speaking to for four WHOLE weeks, so don't believe a word he says."

Grant seemed to droop, _droop!_, at the last words Bex said, and gave a desperate plea, "C'mon Bex! I was just playing around," which Bex seemed to purposely ignore. _There's something more than a high school romance going on there!_Macey realized, and decided to delve deeper into the relationship between Bex and Grant when she had some extra free time.

"And this is Zach, as you well know. Don't be fooled by his bad boy act – because unlike what most girls believe, he really _is_one, even deep deep deep inside of him." But then Bex gave Zach an almost fond look, and Macey knew that she was probably joking, which was pretty much contrary to her own belief.

Bex then pointed at Cammie. "And this is my best friend Ca–"

Cammie interrupted _again_ (_where are __this girl's manners?_Macey wondered, ignoring the fact that she wasn't exactly Mrs. Manners herself), "I've seen you do _a lot_of things in life, Bex, but I never thought that I'd see the day when Bex Baxter played the role of the **peacemaker**."

Bex smiled a viciously sweet smile at Cammie, and continued as if she hadn't been broken off in her introductions.

"This is Cammie, Macey." Macey nodded in cool acknowledgement, trying to work out why exactly that Cammie girl was so hostile towards her.

"Actually, it's Cameron Morgan," Cammie said haughtily.

"Well then, _Cameron_," Bex almost said mockingly, "You've already missed three-fourths of lunch! But then again, all you've missed was Macey and Zach having an evil spat. I think Zachy here's making an improvement! She's probably one of the few girls here at school that he doesn't want to get together with."

Zach looked up with a mouthful of spinach in his mouth, no longer sullen as he was before, and muttered, "More like ever want to see again."

"Oh." Cammie replied distractedly. Bex gave her a pointed stare. And then another.

Macey watched in amazement while Cammie and Bex commenced to having one of those conversations using just eyes as communication, which she thought only existed on bad television and in a psychic's dream.

"OH!" Cammie exclaimed, as if she realized something really important.

She suddenly turned around to Macey, with a suspiciously sincere, warm smile on her face. "Hey, please forgive me. I haven't had a bite of _anything_ since dinner yesterday night, so I'm a bit cranky. When I saw a new girl sitting at our table, I just couldn't help but feel frustrated at having to go through introductions and stuff before I could get a bite to eat. Forgive me?"

Well. If she put it _that_ way… Macey could understand. She _hated_ it when people stopped her from getting what she wanted, and apparently what Cammie had really wanted was to eat without being disturbed.

"Well, I guess you're forgiven…" Yes, Macey understood. But one still couldn't be completely forgiven for treading in Macey's space so heavily.

"…given that you hand over that chocolate chip cookie you have there." Macey grinned. So it was a new school. She had to make a few new allowances one time or another.

And after that, it felt like kindergarten all over again. There was no other way Macey could describe this feeling of getting into a fight with another kid, and then get married with each other in the mock "Home" lego building two minutes afterwards, best friends forever in an instant she got after Cammie handed over the cookie. Cammie, Macey realized, was not like what she'd thought she was this morning, nor a few minutes before. She was neither _perfect_nor bad-tempered, though that naivety that she'd caught traces of before still remained. Macey realized that she should stop summarizing people too much. But then she caught sight of Grant shoveling his food into his mouth, and Zach cheering him on in the seat beside him, and she remembered that first impressions were really what mattered in most cases.

"Macey?" Macey blinked a few times, and realized that Bex was staring at her pointedly, as if expecting an extremely important answer from her. Oh shit, had Bex asked her if she'd like to go fishing sometime this weekend? Because she positively **loathed** it.

"Uhh, no thanks. I prefer to ever see my fish already cooked and without the need to be dropped back into the water, you see." Macey explained, before Cammie burst into a snorting laugh to her left.

Bex looked at her wonderlingly. "You are something, aren't you?"

"Huh?" She looked at Cammie for guidance, to find the girl still shaking with laughter. "Didn't you ask me to go fishing?"

It was a good thing that Bex was as stable as Macey had thought she was the first time she'd saw her, because the entire table except for Bex burst into laughter, even the two gorillas previously occupied in food stuffing.

"I'm feeling a bit left out right now," a voice drawled from behind Macey, and she turned around to see the guy she'd met this morning (Josh, was it?) pulling a chair over from a nearby table and seating himself in between Cammie and her.

"Oh hey, Josh! This is Macey!" Cammie immediately introduced Macey to the guy.

"Oh, I know that." Josh grinned impishly, and turned to face Macey.

"So Macey, tell us more about your childhood growing up in the rural Amazon forests with the barbarian tribe people that kidnapped you from your home, and those hundreds of tribe wars you went on! Or maybe, just repeat one more time, so that I can add this to the numerous rumors floating around school already, the story of how you," here Josh exaggeratedly brought his hands to his mouth in a gasp, and whispered loudly, "killed someone with your car on purpose."

Oh damn. So her scary (_made-up_, mind you) childhood stories she'd attempted to give to the last ten or so guys that hit on her today hadn't worked after all.

**Also, I've come to realize that I don't reply to other people's reviews. They are VERY appreciated and liked, but I just forget to reply! So I'll really make sure to reply to people (who want me to reply, hopefully) who review from now on! Thanks for reading :D**


	7. Chapter 6

**Was going to post this like weeks ago, but there were internet/communication problems and such :( None you have ANY idea how bad I am at technology.**

**In other words, sorrysorrysorry this chapter is SO LATE :/**

**:Liz:**

Stepping through the Auditorium doors, Liz felt like she was marching towards her death sentence. The lights switched on row by row as she walked down the giant red steps, setting an ominous feeling she thought she'd really rather not have pounding in her head.

Each step rose dust clouds that seemed to encompass the entire bottom half of her body, and even the swishing of her ponytail whooshed loudly as if a tennis racket was being swung during an intense match. It seemed to be that she was completely alone here, and that gave her half a mind to just turn and run. Of course, her clumsiness would probably cause her to face plant on the probably triple-disease contaminated dusty carpet, but wouldn't that be completely worth it if she could skip this play practice?

But, clever Mr. Anderson had realized that the play rehearsals after school theoretically could be categorized as "non-mandatory activities," so he had gone ahead and warned that anyone who missed a single practice would receive a tardy slip, plausible excuses be _damned_. Liz winced at using such strong word, and stumbled along the last step. She had a perfect performance record, and she was set on keeping it. Or else, she could very well be kissing Princeton, MIT, and here she winced once again – any of her beautifully planned potential futures away. So here she was, feeling quite peaky, instead of settling down at her desk and starting to study something familiar, and _fun_, and _nice_. It was like being forced to go to her very first high school dance all over again… though this time, she was absolutely **positive** that she wouldn't turn out to have even one-millionth of the amount of fun she'd had that night.

Dropping onto one of the metal chairs, she wondered how in the world she still managed to be the first one to arrive to something she dreaded this much. Or maybe – yep, she heard breegling in the distance. Not even giggling – but _breegling_, something that Bex had thought up a while ago during one of her more anti-bubbly people phases. As almost always when she came upon a word that wasn't familiar to her (which didn't happen very often, modesty aside), Liz couldn't help but recite the definition. "Breegling: a loud and insistent lame-jokes-induced choking of the throat most commonly found to be produced by hyenas and specific annoying specimens of some sort of girl called Bree that go to Roseville High." And when her ears realized that it indeed was breegling she heard; it was childish, yes, yes, she was 17 already, but she _really_ wanted to just crawl under her chair. And when she became grossed-out by the scattered hardened gum underneath the chair, and decided to just squeeze her eyes shut so that she wouldn't have to see the bubble-gum-sweet smile that Bree was sure to have on her face, she heard a very distinct voice – though she honestly had no idea how she recognized it since the person the voice belonged to was, after all, a new student.

Her eyes opened, and she turned her head around just at the right time to see Bree enter the auditorium, tugging on Jonas McHenry with her right arm, practically dragging him into the room.

It wasn't nice to think badly of someone, even if it was Bree, but Liz wanted to roll her eyes in disgust. Was she seriously turning on her goo-goo eyes with Jonas when she only just ended her relationship with Ryan Williams just the day before? Did she even _know_ about the many accomplishments that Jonas had made – the scientific breakthroughs that he was sure to make in the future that would with no doubt astound the world, or more importantly – if she knew, would she even **care**?

Not that Liz cared.

She just wanted this play rehearsal to be over.

If only Mr. Anderson would bother to even show up to the rehearsal that he had threatened everyone into being early to. And really, - speak of the devil, and here he came.

Heaving his portly figure onto the stage (not to mention ignoring the perfectly intact steps that Liz would definitely choose to take later on), he found a mic lying around and switched it on. "Let the dramatic roller coaster of your life begin!" He declared, voice booming to all corners of the auditorium. This seemed to instigate the remaining cast of students to slowly trickle into the room. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought a zombie party was parading through the school, judging from the pale faces of all the students. Smart people. She should really not underestimate the common sense of the average teenager in the future.

Slowly, the seats in the first three rows of the auditorium were all filled. Slightly appeased, Mr. Anderson unfurrowed his bushy eyebrows. Bending down by his knees, he managed to sit himself on the edge of the stage, and his dangling legs soon finding themselves beating an unnatural rhythm against the wooden floorboards. "Well, just don't sit there, my mini Shakespeare is just waiting to be born! Let the festivities start!"

There was that awkward silence that Liz thought only existed in cheesy cartoons, and she swore that there were a few crickets hiding under the rusty floorboards of the stage, because she definitely heard the sound of them chirping away. If there was a puddle somewhere here, there would probably have been an awkward turtle swimming along in it.

"Let's start this rehearsal, children!" Mr. Anderson revised his words.

That finally found a response in the students, and they all slowly, not to mention reluctantly, made their way onto the stage. Was this really going to happen? Liz wondered. Was she _really_ going to have to read out poorly-written lines of some knock-off of Romeo and Juliet in front of all of these people, and actually pretend that she liked it? No matter what others said, it wasn't possible that anyone in the world was that great of an actor. Reluctantly, she followed the last couple of students climbing up the stairs the stage. There were many things she was – but brave certainly wasn't one of them. She was not going to pretend that she was going to enjoy this. Not for even one second. She heard another dose of breegling, and turned around as she took her first step up the stairs. The only two people left behind her were Bree and Jonas, who Liz noticed – almost triumphantly – didn't look comfortable at all having his arm being basically torn apart by Bree.

But Liz, being Liz, was too busy overanalyzing as to why she felt so happy that Jonas was blatantly not attracted to Bree – _because, gosh, everyone liked Bree!_ – that she didn't notice when she stepped on thin air on the very last step.

Of course, she had _known_ that she was going to trip. It was always this feeling she had in her bones, and call it talent, or pre-warned karma for some previous life she'd probably spent as the neighbor's annoying dog, but there was one thing she knew with no doubt :the bones never lied – she'd learnt that from the oracle bones the Shang Dynasty people had read the future with. So when her foot suddenly spazzed on her, she didn't know why she still uttered the "Oopsie Daisies!" that she always did during her clumsy acts, just like any other time. But, this time, her fall didn't follow the same way all of her other ones always did – face plant on the floor (or once, when she really was having a bad day, a dirty janitor bucket). This time, a pair of arms shot out to catch her just in the nick of time, and Liz barely found the time to squeeze an "eek" out before she was lifted and placed onto the stage. Just like that. At least she was put on her feet; instead of her behind like a mother setting her baby on the grocery counter when fishing for her wallet. Because she certainly felt humiliated enough to be.

"You okay?" Jonas grinned, his face awfully close to hers, and the butterflies in her stomach awfully frenzied. The twinkle in his eyes contributed nothing to help her calm down. "I think that might have slightly been my fault. Had a bag of chips or so too many at lunch today, so I might have jiggled the stairs a bit."

Was that a joke? Should she laugh? Liz forced out a small laugh, and winced when she found it almost resembling a breegle. "You know me, always falling down. It's definitely my fault."

Then her eyes widened. Of course he didn't know her! He'd only been at Roseville High for a week or so. "I mean – I'm just telling you – well, I'm just really clumsy. Call me Mr. Clumsy or something." She felt like slapping herself. And this was _why_ she never talked to guys.

But Jonas seemed to understand.

For some reason he seemed to understand that study geeks did not belong on the stage; not because they were unwelcome, even though that usually was the case, but because they didn't want to be. He seemed to understand that she was too nervous to make small talk, and that he should just smile again, because of course his sweet smile could soothe the nerves she had, and nod as if he understood. Even though this was probably all in her head; because in reality, he was probably staring at her rather strangely.

"Ahem." Bree leaned on one hip impatiently, tapping her foot. "If we could get this rehearsal started?"

And Liz, being Liz, just had to blush and scramble closer to the center of the stage.

* * *

**:Macey:**

Worst. Day. Ever. Macey thought.

And then she saw a black t-shirt, worn jeans-clad guy skidding across the corner above her, and knew that it was about to get much worse.

Sighing, she folded her arms and braced herself.

The loud pattering of running footsteps stopped right in front of her. "Excuse me- in a hurry, you see…" Then the guy's eyes widened. "Oh, it's you."

"Nice to see you too, Goode. Attractive socks."

"Attractive face."

"I was talking about how they were very feminine."

"I was too." He sneered, before realizing what he'd just said.

And you could totally see why girls liked him; his intellect of course. Macey rolled her eyes.

Then there was an awkward silence that really shouldn't have made Macey feel as uncomfortable as she did. Zach cleared his throat, and asked the question almost nervously: "Well… you going to let me pass or what?"

"What else would I do, Goode? Stay here and waste my time looking at your _attractive_ face? Pfft, I think I'll pass." And she stepped to the right to let him pass through.

But the big oaf that Goode was, he didn't seem to be able to match his sense of direction (if he had any) with his body. He stepped to the left, which was really Macey's right, if that made any sense, and let out an impatient sigh, as if it was her fault, that he was blocked yet again.

"Seriously, Macey, in a big hurry here." They both sidestepped in sync once again, and Macey glared at him. "What, late for some hot date?"

And they spent the next thirty seconds mirroring each other's actions unconsciously, as Zach looked at her and replied, "Something like that, yeah."

Finally realizing that they weren't making any progress, Macey came to a stop. "Well, by all means, don't let me stop you. Better run before she bails on you."

"You're not." And he gave a sudden jolt, as if remembering why he had been in a hurry and ran forward again.

"You might want to change your socks before you meet her! They might take the attention away from your _attractive_ face!" Macey yelled after him. It was a wonder why girls liked him. She _really_ didn't look forward to next day's lunch full of exaggerated retellings of the date filled with the laughter of Cammie, Bex, and Grant over how his date had found his super long, mismatched socks charming.

Then she rounded the corner, but not before noticing a few poorly hidden freshmen guys behind some open lockers, staring after her. _Get a grip_. She wanted to tell them. But then she was too busy wondering who exactly Zachary Goode would be going out on a date with. All for blackmail in the future, she grinned to herself. But she didn't want to ask herself why exactly this information would matter when he so openly showcased his "womanizing" ways.

* * *

**:Liz:**

"Don't look up, and you'll be fine. Don't look up and you'll be fine. Don't look up and you'll be fine. Don't look fine and you'll be up-"

Obviously, the mantra Liz was chanting wasn't helping in the slightest bit, even if she couldn't see any of the other three cast members standing on the stage with her eyes focused on the script.

But as she took a quick glance to her side, she could see Jonas mouthing something that seemed to be along the same lines as her.

Ah, wasn't life great when there was someone as shy as you were?

Her happiness was short-lived though, because Mr. Anderson boomed out the dreaded words, like he always did, "Okay, all of you, off the stage! Let's just let these two lovebirds," and he pointed at Liz and Jonas while wiggling his eyebrows to a point where Liz thought they were going to fall off like furry caterpillars and start munching on the wooden floorboards, "practice their alone scene."

"I believe I'm in the scene too, Mr. Johsnon?" Bree piped up from below the stage, pageant smile out, polished, and ready to go.

"Oh, I cut you out. Sorry about that." Mr. Anderson replied, though looking not the slightest bit chagrined.

"But I have some of the most important li-"

"That's show biz to you, Bree!" The teacher replied, with a small flick of the hand, reminding Liz of Ms. Darbus from High School Musical, which was only reasonable as Mr. Anderson had only played it for their class about 4 periods, only counting this semester.

"And ready, set, start!"

Since when did he say so little before running a scene? He should really have talked more. Because she thought maybe her hands were quivering. Because that certainly wasn't going to help her performance. And of course, the script seemed to be shaking in front of her eyes, and maybe she was feeling a bit queasy.

If she managed to tear her eyes off the script, Liz was certain she'd become aware of how high the stage was. If she stumbled off it, she probably wouldn't need someone to say "break a leg" to her before doing so literally. And also, it really wasn't her style, worrying about what everyone thought about her. But standing here on stage, it suddenly became painfully clear to her that this was it. If she embarrassed herself, there'd be 50 people here to tell at least two of their friends, who would then tell another two friends of their own, and pretty soon, the whole district would probably hear about how Liz Sutton had singlehandedly torn down the set of the play and made a complete fool of herself.

"Sp- Spakest thee – I mean, thou, of Ju- Juliet?" she stuttered, well aware of the snickers that that statement alone roused up. And not to mention, she could hear the breegling start up again.

"No. I'm speaking of thee." Jonas returned, with a firmness mixed in the nervousness that made her glance up, to see that he was actually _staring not-so-nicely_(well, as much as a friendly guy could do so) at Bree. Then he noticed her looking, and rolled his eyes in the direction of Bree, as if to say, _can you believe_her?

That was awfully nice of him.

Because Bree probably wouldn't give him the time of day ever again after this, and as annoying as she was, it was a good thing to have Bree on your side.

They both stumbled through their lines, barely getting some of the words out that were made incomprehensible by the blinding light of the spots above them. The ahem's that could be heard from Mr. Anderson from down below seemed to be a thing of a past as Liz, almost proudly, delivered her last line.

"And herein ends our rehearsal for today," Mr. Anderson declared solemnly. "Liz – Johnnie, both of you need to brush up on your lines a bit. Even though this is only the beginning of our play practices, I want you to know that time passes by quickly. Stay for at least 10 minutes more to rehearse! The rest of you, dismissed! And I'm dismissed too, because this has given me quite an appetite…" Before long, the auditorium was as empty as it had been when Liz had been the first to get there, with the only exception of Jonas.

"Well, I guess we should rehearse," Jonas turned around to say. "Though I really don't want to. That was quite the ordeal, wasn't it?"

Liz let out the sigh she'd be keeping in her throughout the rehearsal, and nodded solemnly.

"Where do you want to start then?"

"The beginning, I guess?" She said, though it came out as a question just like whenever she said something she wasn't sure of.

"Sounds good. I think we started off quite bumpy back there, but the feeling's definitely there." He tried to make it seem like they were making progress.

There seemed to be no better option, so they started to exchange their lines once again. Well, you could call it more like_muttering_, because Shakespeare's meter was certainly lost on both of them. There was no lack of the sheepish smiles they gave to each other as they messed up every other word, or if they were lucky, every two words, and Liz suddenly had to wonder if this was the most she had smiled in such a small span of time.

It was an uncomfortable feeling, to both feel actually okay with rehearsing with Jonas alone, and knowing just how big this auditorium was, and notice how her every word would be heard clearly on Opening Night. _Opening Night_. Glancing to her right though, she could see that Jonas was also nervous, even with the circumstances such as this. It may not have been the most flattering image of him ever, running his hand through his hair nervously, giving teensy smiles in between his words to show how embarrassed he was that he didn't know the words well enough, and constantly rubbing his right foot against the floor as a sign of frustration. It was a slightly awkward, yet almost familiar, **feeling that Liz thought was like the beginning of good things that were to come**. Like the small time before spring, where leaf buds were still unsure if they were supposed to grow yet, and golden-red leaves mixed with evergreen leaves to make trees that seemed to belong only in paintings. Yes, Liz thought, that was it. A new beginning filled with promise, and potential, and just so many great feelings that she felt almost mushy inside – especially when Jonas nudged her during one of her more bumbled up lines – and geeks weren't _supposed_ to feel mushy.

**Hi again. And yes, I know I've included WAY too much side story in this chapter. I have a path, or whatever you call it, planned, I promise! Of course, my weird little mind might keep quitting on me and twisting stuff along the way, but yeah, you get what I mean. And please don't fall asleep on me; everything's FINALLY going to have a move on in the next chapter, and before you ask, YES, I'VE FINISHED THE NEXT CHAPTER ALREADY! Yay for me.**


	8. Chapter 7

**:Macey:**

Macey thought maybe she was going to have a quiet day.

After all, she'd already handed in her Bio Lab, suffered through the Hamlet English Test, passed PE with flying colors (literally, the oversized red gym clothes she'd been forced to purchase from the student store blew up like a ripe pumpkin around her in the 100 meter dash), and managed to remember to avoid the corner around the guy's bathroom on the second floor that always had those scrawny freshmen staring at her. She usually wasn't much of a sweet person, but ice cream seemed like a good idea right now. It wasn't a sight one would see every day, or any regular day at that, but Macey McHenrey was actually practically _la-di-da _ing here.

But then again, maybe she was getting rusty. She'd gotten used to the privileges it came with being friends with Bex Baxter, one of which was having all her stalkers steer clear from her. Why was it that soccer tryouts just had to be held in some school an hour away? Sure, something in the field was under construction, but would it really be that hard to jump over the numerous pipes crowding the ground?

She crossed the doors to the guys' locker rooms, and in the true fashion of a high school cliché, the odor of sweaty socks permeated the air.

She quickened her steps, because no amount of testosterone was going to destroy her good day. The sun was bright, and the grass she was treading on smelt like spring – oh screw that, she really wasn't much of a poet. But point heeded, she was in a good mood.

Then two jocks, laughing boisterously with their _manly_ muscles and **truly** hard earned jerseys walked out of the locker room, took one look at her, and offered her a ride home. She didn't even deem them worthy of a _nice try_ sneer, and told them so.

Yet, it seemed as though the food here at Roseville High was very much different from her old school's, because the two idiots decided that this was come-on by, and one of them, the _smarter_ one, obviously, declared (taking note of the enormous Biology textbook she was lugging with her), "Don't worry! You're a hot nerd. We won't laugh at you or anything if you've never been in a car as awesome as mine."

She was flattered. She really was. That they would obviously deduct, from the book she was holding, that she was a nerd. Because of course she was. Anyone compared to those chicken-brained dipshits would be fucking smart.

So she tried to lay it out slowly. "Did…you…know…that Bex Baxter," and insert here the faces of the two guys whitening, "yes, _that_ Bex Baxter that beat the shit out of the guy that accidentally knocked Grant Newman out last week, is…my…best…friend?"

The guys didn't even leave enough pride within them to make up an excuse and turn to leave; no, they ran like hell.

But they had still made her day un-quiet.

So it seemed as though she had a problem on her hands. And even though Macey McHenry usually liked to solve her problems by getting rid of them, even she knew that the Roseville population wouldn't like it very much if she murdered one third of the students at Roseville high.

And then she looked across to the bleachers, and that scheming, devious grin appeared on her face that was usually a sign for people to go far far away from her, because life was about to become _very_ interesting. Call her genius or whatever; it seemed as though she'd found her solution.

Zach Goode leaned against the bleachers looking bored, and barely squeezing out a smile whenever the perky girl sitting beside her would look up at him to ask if he "would understand the terror she was going through, having her pedicure appointment moved to a week later on such a short notice." Well, at least that was what Macey could deduce from this far away; but knowing the airheads at this school, it was either going to be about nails or shoes. But the point was that Goode didn't seem to be enjoying the close proximity the girl had to him.

And Macey McHenry could only think: _well, well, well, our player doesn't seem to want to play anymore_.

* * *

**:Sometime the Next Day:**

"I have a proposal," Macey said.

"I think we might be too young to marry right now, McHenry," Zach replied, arching an eyebrow.

Macey promptly ignored him, because that was the arrangement they'd fallen into unconsciously after the first week Macey arrived at Roseville High; passive aggressiveness that really wasn't all that passive at times.

"I'm tired of all those, _animals_, drooling after me all day long-"

Zach couldn't help but cut in again. "-whoa, hold on there, McHenry. Don't think you think you're giving yourself a bit too much credit? I don't think they're going as far as drooling; maybe just their eyes rolling up into their eyelids a bit," at this, he smiled mischievously at his wit.

"Ha, funny. As I was _saying_, I'm sick of all the attention I'm getting from the guys, and you're obviously not having as much fun with the quote on quote, _ladies_, for probably some retarded reason I don't think I want to know…" Macey trailed off, having a sudden pensive look on her face.

"And your point?" Zach asked impatiently. "Unlike you, some people have an actual social life waiting for them, okay?"

"Well," Macey smiled slyly, not at all deterred by Zach's measly insult, "that's the part that might leave me a bit queasy in the stomach. It's simple, though. We date."

"I guess my hint wasn't strong enough before, McHenry. I think two people actually have to _like_ each other to even go out in public together." Taking in Macy's serious expression, Zach's eyes couldn't have bugged out any further. "Wait, you're serious?" He yelled hoarsely.

"Why, of course, Zachary. We date. Or, I guess you could call it fake dating, since I would never want to date someone like **you**." If Zach had looked in the mirror at his expression just then, he would have sworn that Simon, the toddler he babysitted who was famed for his tantrums, had taken his place. Macey seemed to find the expression normal on his face though, for she continued, "We pretend we're dating, and since we hate each other so much, everyone's going to think that the 'passion' between us two is just as strong. This means that no one will ever bother us again. At least in the romantic sense. Not that I know why any girl has an interest in you to begin with."

"Wait. No way! That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard!"

"Ironic how you can call such a genius plan idiotic when you're spewing grammatically incorrect words left and right." Macey said dryly.

Ignoring her, Zach continued to rant. "It's like, completely insane. Doesn't even deserve to be considered! It's just like, ewwww- could never work. Really really really risky. Wait, no more stupid attention from girls? I guess… a teensy bit of potential. Nahh, couldn't possibly work. Wait, how about.. Oh hey, sounds okay. And then I could just…" _So this, _Macey mused, _is how a boy organizes his thoughts. No wonder they're so dumb_. And then Zach came to an abrupt halt in his sputtering.

Sticking a hand out, Zach stated calmy, "Macey Mchenry, say hi to your new fake boyfriend."

Grinning, Macey shook his hand, managing to keep her disgust at touching his hand to the minimal level. "Now we're talking, Goode. Or should I say, Zach?"

"Ahem. I think you mean Zachiekins, sweetie."

"Fine with me," Macey replied, "as long as you don't truly mean those nicknames."

Zach scoffed. "As if I could ever imagine _you_ as a sweetiepie."

"Temporary truce?" Macey sighed.

"Well, duh… It's not every day that Macey McHenry devises a good plan." Zach declared. "But seriously, I'm in a hurry. Gotta run."

And they linked arms and pranced happily down the hallway.

Well, erm, at least that would have been what other people would have imagined to see, had they been truly dating. Which they weren't. Which is why they shoved each other all the way down the hallway giddily, happy at the sudden solution of their problems, yet frustrated that yet a new batch would pop up just because their solution for the problems was each other.

* * *

**:Cammie:**

Cammie sat on the steps to the movie theater with a pensive look on her face. No, she certainly wasn't pouting. Even though obviously, she'd just been completely _ditched_ by her best friend. And they had planned on watching Vampires That Can Shapeshift Into Bloodlusting Rainbow Unicorns IV! Nothing could beat a proper VTCSIBRC movie on any day; with those "special" effects in such downgraded quality that 10$ could probably have bought the computer that generated it all, and the non-effective olden day take on ketchup blood and plastic fangs.

She got up, ready to go, miffed that her awesome day had to end on such a sour note. But then someone tapped her on the left shoulder, and she turned around to see Zachary Goode with that sheepish smile only ever reserved for her, and two rainbow colored movie tickets in his right extended arm.

"I'm sorry?" He offered, and he looked so sincere that she had to wonder, not for the first time, why, of all the perfectly wonderful people at Roseville High, she had to have fallen in love with her completely unattainable best friend.

Because really, she could try to be fair at least, and give everyone the chance they deserved. She was just nice that way. Definitely.

"It's just a stupid movie, anyways." She replied, and glanced at her watch. It disappointed her a bit, that Zach wasn't trying to make it that much better, but then again, wasn't it that old scenario all over again, "it wasn't like they were dating, or anything"? But then Zach peeked over her shoulder and whispered "liar", and they both couldn't help but grin at each other. "Twelve minutes left of unicorns covered in gore!" They sang out in harmony, and all was well in Cammie and Zach land again.

He extended his arm again, and she accepted. And this time, the boy and the girl in the scene did, in matter of fact, skip down their path giggling.

If someone else had been within hearing range of their conversation, they would have been amused by what Zach said next in a voice filled with so much boyish glee that in any other case, couldn't be tolerated, on a teenage boy. "I can't believe you said that VTCSIBRC could be missed! Just you wait, the next episode might not even be allowed into the theaters. That'll show you. I'll have you know, the candy floss stakes the vampires carry are no laughing matter. "

His voice dripped with that perfect level of sarcastically disapproving. It was in the essence – no doubt, why everyone so winningly loved him and his stupid, stupid, _stupid_ charismatic charm.

He reached out and opened the door to the movie theater with a tip of an imaginary top hat reminiscent to the Old Hollywood Night they'd had sometime last year, and Cammie made a mock-curtsy that was so off-balance that they both dissolved into another flurry of giggles. It was the perfect best friend moment.

But then, admidst this best friend euphoria they were in, Zach suddenly remembered: "Oh, hey, and one other thing;" Cammie raised her in reply. "You might see something weird tomorrow; don't be too shocked or anything, yeah? I mean, best friends forever, and the whole shamading-whatever right?"

And Cammie could only nod, not really paying attention, just glad that she still had her best friend at her side. "Whatever, Zach. There's only 10 minutes left now. You do know that you're going to have to make it up to me with ice cream later?"

"I was thinking that maybe we could get banana splits today instead?"

"Sounds like a deal."

She tried to ignore her sudden urge to wrap her arms around him because she really, really didn't want to spoil this perfectly good mood with her teenage angst-ridden feelings for her best friend, but his grin was so contagious that she couldn't help but think, _what the hell_, and launch herself at him. The tiniest things Zachary Goode did did it for her, and when he gave that tiny oomph of surprise, _butterflies_, of all the things in the world, fluttered into a frenzy in her stomach. Which was weird, because she was not a particularly butterfly-y person. And that really scared her.


	9. Chapter 8

**:Macey&Zach:**

The phone conversation goes like this:

"Uh… hi?" Static clouded the reception, but the scratchy, sleepy tone of Zach's voice was hard to miss. Macey smiled. Now it wasn't just her time she was wasting.

She put on a scowl; just for the effect, you know. "Finally. It takes you five rings to answer the phone? What, is your butler getting too old to do it for you?"

"Um… need I remind you that you're the rich one here, McHenry?" There was a yawn between each word.

"Right. I forgot that my call is bestowing on you a huge honor. Imagine, me, Macey McHenry, stooping down to talk to someone of your station."

"Mhm. And this is McHenry, right? Because I don't recall giving you my number."

"I asked for Bex for it," Macey snapped, sounding a tad more defensive than she would have preferred.

"Ooh, I better get my butler to dial 911! I think I've got a stalker here." Zach said amusedly, now wide awake.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Don't let it get to your head. I'm obviously only stalking you for your great sense of humor."

Zach let out a hurt noise that made Macey snort.

Usually, Macey hates conversations over the phone. After all, it was hardly satisfying to chew someone out without seeing their face wilt afterwards. Yet, she had no problem at all keeping the insults streaming through the phone cord. Must have simply been because any frustrating phone conversation she'd ever had was multiplied to the millionth in this one, and there was no way the screaming match building up in her could wait until school. Her fingers were actually twitching to tear off some Barbie heads. And _no_, the conversation did not go on for 30 minutes more talking about the most inane things in life because _Zachary Goode_, of all people, could keep her interested.

Finally, the conversation was steered to the reason why Macey had gritted her teeth and forced herself to call in the first place. The plan. Operation-Barbie-Hair-Teaser she wanted to call it, against Zach's adamant protests to aptly name it The-Saving-Macey-McHenry-From-A-Puddle-Of-Drool-Because-I'm-A-Nice-Guy-Plan. So that argument prolonged the, of course, meaningless part of the conversation, before Zach decided to suggest something.

"We could, err… just wing it?" Macey could only scoff at his innocence.

"Goode, do you really think that the Nazis came so easily under Hitler's thumb because he, you so eloquently put it, winged it?"

"You do realize, too, McHenry, that Hitler was evil and blah blah blah we should not, in any way, follow in his footsteps?" He drawled.

"Technicalities," she brushed it off, and continued, "anyways, we should show up to school together." She scowled before the last word even left her mouth. It had sounded just fine in her head. It wasn't one of those "you had to be there to see it" moments; she could see his smirk clearly in her mind.

The grin was as loud in his voice as a donkey's bray when he asked brashly, "Won't people stare? You know I have an image to keep up with, McHenry." Boy, was she just doubling over with laughter.

"They'll not only stare, Goode. They'll _gossip_ and rumors will spread. And soon enough, we'll have plans we never knew we had to elope in Tanzania, settle down in Prague for a yearlong honeymoon, and have a divorce in some badass part of London while eating crumpets. If all goes to plan – and it will – they'll have our entire lives planned out in front of us before you can even say 'Shit, what have I done exactly?'"

"Uhh, isn't that what we wanted to get rid of? More unneeded attention?"

"Don't be slow Zach. Spending time with me should have at least rubbed some of my deviousness onto you. This is exactly what we need to get rid of all of that."

A perfect villainous muahaha could have been issued here if Macey hadn't been afraid of damaging poor Zach's already fragile state.

**:Grant:**

The second Grant hears from Zach about, seriously, the stupidest idea in the world, he can't help it but call Bex. The second she picks up the phone, he can hear that it's not exactly the best time to call her.

"This better be good," she says with a grinding of metal sound in the background that sounds eerily like the sharpening of a sword. Of course, that would only be if he "didn't know better."He's learned, after some most, erm, unfortunate series of events that what Bex doesn't tell usually means that it's better that way. He can imagine her propping her phone between her shoulder and ear while painting her nails with her left hand and shooting darts with frightening accuracy with her right hand. Classic Bex.

He's nervous about telling Bex about the agreement between Zach and Macey, because quite honestly, Bex believes that shooting the messenger delivers the exact message she wants to return – she doesn't much care about what the sender wants to say. Grant starts off, "I know I know, there's supposed to be a few more weeks of you ignoring me, but this is completely important."

There's a pause, with Bex slowly inspecting each of Grant's words, as a young kid with a magnifying glass does trying to decide whether or not to burn the ants alive. "Fine. Spit it out."

"Zach is tired of Tina and all those girls throwing themselves at him so he and Macey made a ." It's a halfway point between a mumble and a high-pitched squeal, and Grant cringes at the lashing he knows Bex is going to give him for it.

But, she only says tiredly after a while, "Okay, I see. Fuck, what am I going to do about Cam?" And after a second, though she's miles away on the thinking train, she absentmindedly adds "and talk slower already. You're not in a race or anything, unless it's with yourself. But then that's just called crazy." But Grant knows it she does't mean it. Bex hardly ever means it. It's only people that don't know her that call her a bitch, though to be fair, she's really not the easiest girl in the world to get know. But whatever, she's one of the coolest people he's ever known. And to think about Cammie. Cammie, who's sweet (though she scowls when you call her that), girl-next-door kind of friendly _in a good way_; she's about to have her heart broken the very next morning by her best friend who probably won't even **know** it. And it breaks his own heart that he and Bex (the flaming duo, if he may say so himself) can't do anything to stop it from happening.


	10. Chapter 9

**Hi. Sorry it's taken so long :( Ugh. Thanks for still taking the time to read this though! :)**

**:Cammie:**

Cammie believes strongly in the idea of waking up on the wrong side of the bed (she even believes the idea of sleeping on the wrong bed altogether, because Bex seems to be permanently grumpy every single darn morning). And so when she wakes up and finds herself having rolled to the left side of the bed, where she _never_ sleeps, she feels a hint of panic. But when she climbs out of bed, it's a nice surprise to find an extra bounce in her step. It even gives her an urge to put on a colorful tank top instead of a grey t-shirt.

She's busy fixing her bed hair into a more manageable style when she hears her phone beep on the other side of the room. She scowls in the mirror because she's been telling herself to change the annoying default ringtone for ages, but still hasn't gotten around to it, before walking over to check her messages. It's Bex texting that she's picking her up, which is strange because Bex isn't the type to voluntarily gives her a ride. But Cammie shrugs, because hey, if Bex has finally learnt to be nice, who is she to reject such a nice offer?

**:Zach:**

For the first time in his life, Zach really has no idea how to act. He's sitting beside Macey in her flashy red car, and his right hand is itching to hit the button to turn off the radio. It's been playing "Barbie Girl" for the past 30 seconds. There was a very strange moment at the beginning where he and Macey caught each other's eyes and erupted into laughter. It was very alarming feeling indeed to see that they could both laugh at the same thing together. They're back to normal now though, Macey's eyes trained on the road and his at his hands.

They're very nice hands, actually. He literally spends a second or two mulling over whether or not he should cut his fingernails, before realizing how inane the matters he pays attention to are. But there's really nothing else to do. Somehow he doubts McHenry would play along if he started a conversation consisting of small talk. It's a comfortable silence anyway.

When they're at the stoplight right before school, Macey glances over. "Last chance to back out." She smirks.

Shoot. He had been planning on saying that. "Do I look like a chicken to you, McHenry?" He demands instead, and this poor choice of comeback widens the grin on Macey's face.

She gives him a onceover, and declares "yes." Then she pulls over into a parking space, ignoring Zach's indignant squawks as to "how exactly do I look like a chicken? Is it the eyebrows? I _knew_ there was something wrong with them." She reaches over and shuts him up by slamming his mouth closed.

He glares at her, and despairs at the idea that this might just be the last time he's allowed to do that for the remainder of the day, at least in public. "Let's just get this over with," he grumbles, and they both step out of the car whilst putting on their shades, because they got swag. Good ol' swag swag swaggety swag.

The crowd of people in the parking lot seems to be much larger than usual. Or maybe it's just the nerves talking, although Zach later on denies it with all his life. It only takes a matter of seconds before the rustling of whispers and pointing turn into a collective gasp made by the student body. Some are shocked because seeing _Zachary Goode_ of all people, the guy who can't stand being with a girl after their "first date," being with _Macey McHenry_, who may be hot but is a grade-A bitch, is a shocking thing. Others are leaning more towards the wondrous fact that _Macey McHenry_, who specializes in biting the heads of annoying people, can stand being with _Zachary Goode_, whose smirk could drive anyone mad (a different brand of mad when it comes to girls though).

But of course, though all of these are forming in a part of Zach's mind, what he really notices is that Tina Walters is spazzing like crazy to his left. He looks pointedly at Macey, and they share a satisfying mutual smirk. "Tina Walters? More like Tuna out-of-Waters" he whispers, and although he inwardly winces at probably the lames joke he's ever made, Macey gives him a nod in recognition.

Even the teachers on parking lot duty are taking interest in Zach and Macey being together, especially Mr. Perkins, who's taken off his glasses –which no student has seen him do up to date! – to clean, just to make sure he isn't seeing things. He turns to his side to tell Cammie, because they maybe kind of might have made a bet about the day this miracle would occur, except then he realizes none of his friends are around. And shit, that's a problem right there. He hasn't gotten around to telling Cammie about the plan with McHenry yet, and if there's one thing Cammie's good at, it's worrying about him and denying it profusely afterwards. And Bex, who goes around saying that he's an emotionally repressed bastard that picks up girls at the speed a hobo picks up trash in Central Park to make himself feel better – to which he definitely does not chuckle at, because no, of course the word "hobo" isn't funny, and– _wow does he get off track really fast sometimes_. Anyways the point was that he was screwed.

But then all of this is goes flying out of his mind as a freshman girl who's been stalking him for _ages_ – the main reason he agreed to Macey's plan in the first place – steps forward, and literally **bursts into tears**. She actually wails "it's the end of the world!" as she runs into the school with her arms flailing. And Zach knows he's a horrible person, he really does, for doing this, but yeah, he kind of laughs a bit. But only on the inside. Outside, he schools his face into a surprised expression.

There's a _really_ long awkward silence throughout the courtyard, and Zach's tempted to declare something along the lines of "girls, they just can't get enough of me." But he doubts the teachers would appreciate that, even though they look like they're about to start to laugh. Then Grant, cool Grant, awesome Grant, the coolest person ever Grant, steps out from the crowd, and saves him by saying loudly, "it really is the end of the world. Seriously man – Zach Goode? Having an official girlfriend? Who would have ever dreamed of seeing the day?" He claps Zach on the shoulder and leans in to give an ol' conspirational wink, but right before turning away, Zach catches a strange flicker in his eyes. "By the way, did you by any chance see Cammie yet?" Grant whispers from the side of the mouth, as he greets Macey with a side hug. Zach shakes his head, distracted by the people still openly gaping at them.

People are still whispering, quite blatantly, he might as well add. Attention actually _itches_, he thinks amusedly. It's funny though, because other than the couple of girls that are staring daggers at McHenry and male half of the freshman class looking halfway between wanting to punch him and congratulate him, a surprising majority of the people are going "awww." _Yes, we do look cute don't we,_ Zach thinks smugly, although seconds later he realizes just what making that statement would entail.

"Hey, let's get out of here." Zach turns to find Macey staring meaningfully at him. It's something in her eyes that makes him realizes that she's giving him an out, if he so chooses it. But it's weird, because even though he honestly hates her guts, he's noticed just how much Macey is bothered sometimes by the attention she gets. So with no hesitation, he tells her "sure," and turns around to Grant and says bye.

"I am never riding with you to school again," Cammie tells Bex as she stumbles her way out of the car and into the school, because like always, Bex drove like a crazy woman. Except it was worse this time, because she took a few unnecessary sharp turns that may cause them a tardy. Faintly, she hears Bex yell back at her, "that's what they always say! But they _alwayyys_ come back for more." Cammie rolls her eyes, and starts to make her way to Calculus, which is, of course, all the way on the other side of the school. Although she _is_ looking forward to class because acting as the buffer between the snarks Zach and Macey constantly fire at each other is surprisingly fun. She thinks she might have a future as a referee or ambassador in Switzerland because she is _great _at being neutral.

As she rounds the corner to class, Sophie Beck runs from her left to catch up with her.

"Hey Cam!" Sophie greets her, and she tosses back a quick hello, because she's on a woman on mission to make it to class on time. _Fast walk fast walk fast walk_. "Calc class is going to be extra interesting today, isn't it?" Sophie winks, and wondering if Zach and Macey were paired up as partners for a project without her noticing, Cammie nods in response.

They cross into the classroom just as the bell rings, and Sophie, who's a tad weird at times, mimics wiping sweat from her brow, causing Cammie to smile a bit. That is, of course, until she sees something stranger than that. It's Zach and Macey. Smiling at each other.

"Um, guys?" She blurts out, as she slips into the seat to the right of Macey instead of left, which is now occupied by Zach. "I swear this is the most confused I've been since that time Mr. Lurkey said he hated turkey, which is just freaking weird because how can you hate something that rhymes with your name?"

It isn't until later on when she revisits this bit of memory that she realizes how stupid the words coming out of her mouth are.

At the same time Zach says "Cam? You're blabbering again," Macey brightly declares "Oh shoot! Forgot to tell you, Cammie! Zach and I are officially dating now."

"Um… no you aren't. Guys, you hate each other." Cammie says it slowly as she stares at Zach, as though questioning his sanity. But Zach, instead of making a funny frowny face back at her gives her a pleading look, mouthing that he'll explain later.

"…Okay then." she says instead, "You guys are dating. Sure, I believe you. Right."

So she sits very still during the class period, trying to ignore the fact that Macey and Zach are obviously PASSING NOTES at each other. She's itching to check the date because if she didn't know better, she'd think she was sometime in a parallel future or whatever, like what Grant liked to warn everyone about when he was one of his geek fests. It's torture waiting for the last minute of class to finally end, and when it does, she jumps out of her seat and drags Zach and Macey to the abandoned 2B20 art classroom that has been the gang's private hang out ever since freshman year. Ignoring their protests that they didn't even manage to grab their backpacks, she demands, "okay, tell me what exactly is going on here."

The pair say nothing. Zach fidgets a bit looking guilty and Macey looks uncomfortable. Cammie can't help but notice that although they'd sat close in Calc class, they seem to be standing as far away as possible now.

"Trouble in paradise so quickly?" she asks wiggling her eyebrows, then arching one, inviting them to start explaining.

"It's kind of a long story Cammie…" Macey finally opens her mouth to protest, and Cammie just glares at her. Looking slightly apprehensive, Macey shuts her mouth again.

Zach groans, and pushes off from the desk he's been leaning on. "Fine, if McHenry doesn't want to start, I'll do it," he says. Waving at the large space between him and Macey, "Somehow, _this_" he exaggeratedly indicates, "has become a relationship. A fake one, I mean."

"Yes, that explains everything," Cammie says, rolling her eyes, while inside, a very small part of her makes a sigh of relief.

"Well, it was just this plan I had," Macey interjects. "It's really quite genius."

Macey continues to explain everything, complete with snide commentary Zach helpfully adds, and Cammie slowly starts to wonder how exactly she found herself being friends with people _this_ crazy. She wouldn't be surprised if she turned on the TV some day and found a soap acting out a scene along the lines of her life.

After a couple of minutes, Macey begins to wrap up, ending with how even in the time it took for her to walk from the parking lot to the classroom, two freshmen guys had managed to go up to her and ask, "Is it true? Are you really no longer available?" to which she had replied, "For you, darling, I never was" and proceeded to stomp all over their hearts. It's a slight exaggeration, but it seems to delight Macey to no end.

Cammie wonders if maybe Macey and Zach will finally become friends in this process – but makes a safer bet on them tearing each other apart by the end of next week, and fake breaking up. But even as she thinks this, she realizes that the insults tossed around by Macey and Zach have become less barbed than before, and crosses her fingers that they'll upgrade to being civil in the near future. It'd be nice to hang out with her friends and not have someone end up with a staple in the hand or pants stolen by the end of the first hour. Don't ask.

At the same time, the door of the room flings open and Josh comes walking in with a dazed look on his face. "What's going on guys?" he asks, "Because if I didn't know better, I'd _swear_ at least ten people asked me about Macey and Zach dating on my way here."

And this time, maybe because they've had time experimenting clever lines on Cammie, Macey and Zach fight over who gets to explain which part of the plan.


End file.
